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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30061056">A Knight's Quest</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaramelButterscotch/pseuds/CaramelButterscotch'>CaramelButterscotch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awesome Gwaine, Bottom Merlin, Canon Era, Chastity Belt, Evil Cenred, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Magic Revealed, Male Lactation, Marriage, Mpreg, Possessive Arthur, Pregnant Sex, Protective Arthur, Rough Sex, Spanking, Top Arthur, Tournaments, mythical creatures</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:20:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>43,567</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30061056</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaramelButterscotch/pseuds/CaramelButterscotch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Merlin’s magic is revealed, betrayed by truth, Arthur faces a life-changing decision gearing a hopeful destiny to action. Intertwined fates, one unable to survive without the other, the two must forge through various trials and tribulations involving Cenred's continuous plotting, a peryton in need, a wayward witchfinder, a questionable princess, and tough choices that will ultimately shape Camelot and determine Albion’s future.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>189</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Sporting Spite</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur and his knights had been sent to a small village at the outskirts of Camelot in search of a powerful beast rumored to be one of the fiercest to roam the earth. A Wendigo is what Gaius called it based from the few descriptions that managed to live, although not for long. They perished through the night with wounds out of reach for healing. Uther had been clear advising Arthur to have it killed thus causing their haste to leave first light. Merlin spent most the night worrying over what harm this creature could cause for the future of Camelot and its King while studying to learn its weaknesses and faults.</p><p>	There was very little information, even the records could not date an exact solution when facing against this monstrosity. From what he discovered, these monsters were nothing to play around with. They tease their prey through shrieks and growls while other times mimicking voices of fellow companions to lure warriors in. Their hearing, sight, and speed are incapable of being beat by a mere sword, and that worried Merlin the most. Arthur would never back down, not until death, and the image of sharp claws and fangs digging into the King’s stomach caused turmoil within Merlin’s mind keeping sleep far away.</p><p>	At dawn, Arthur, Merlin, and the knights bid their farewells riding into the forest hoping to be at the village near sundown. It wasn’t until an hour did they begin conversing with light jests and jokes, but Merlin could not find it in him to join, not this time. He had an aching, sickening feeling pooling around his stomach silently warning something bad was going to happen. He had half a mind to suggest they turn back but shook the idea out of his head immediately. No matter the consequences, he knew the small village would perish without their assistance, and nothing, not even the dread coursing through him, could stop him and everyone else from trying to help.</p><p>	Absent-mindedly riding beside Arthur worrying his bottom lip, it takes a second to realize the familiar stare boring into the side of his head. “What is it Merlin? Having second thoughts?” There was a familiar jesting challenge in both the king’s tone and words, so despite his lack of spirit, Merlin half smirks meeting eyes in his usual way. </p><p>	Picking pace a little, he baits, “afraid you can’t do this without me? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to protect you.” At that, the king laughs from the absurdity of his manservant vowing to protect him and paces a head in front of Merlin as if proving a point.</p><p>	Returning his attention to the forest’s path, he garbles, “protect me from where Merlin, behind a tree?” At that, the knights snicker which only encourages his own smile from being withheld. Merlin bites his tongue from retorting only if the situation calls for it, and instead jokingly rolls his eyes letting the king take this one for the win. The rest of the day goes smoothly with the leaves shading the beating sun from sinking them in sweat. As predicted, they arrive at the village just as the sky darkens with neon oranges, pinks, and various blues hovering above.</p><p>	Near the village entrance stands a man dressed in a light grey cloak and regular clothes fitting for a farmer. Meeting them, he bows explaining, “your Majesty, I am Poleth, the Village Chief. My people and I have awaited your arrival anxiously and are honored to have you here among us. Please, follow me.” Dismounting their horses, the knights, Arthur, and Merlin follow Poleth into an older building leaving their horses to a few village men that seem to have popped out of thin air. If not for their presence, it would seem as if this place had been abandoned for over a century.</p><p>	Entering, there are slabs of tables slotted throughout the room with bleeding, dying men atop, some at their end while others were already gone. Arthur stops to the first breathing man he sees kneeling beside him inspecting the grotesque wounds protruding all around. The knights stand in horrified awe taking in the stench of death. Speaking about one of the only few living villagers, Arthur asks Poleth softly, “when was he attacked?” Which in turn, Poleth tells him the villager had been targeted that very morning when he went to feed his chickens. Merlin was already pulling out his satchel with medicines Gaius instructed he take in case there was hope for some, but even as he begins cleaning the wounds, like clockwork, the blood returns instantly losing all hope for the man’s life.</p><p>	Wondering if his magic might be of some use, he reaches to the man’s chest but then realizes exactly where he is and who he is with. Arthur mistakes his sigh as one of defeat in not being able to help, and the cruelest thing about it is he could do something about it but at a cost he couldn’t provide. “It’s alright Merlin, I doubt even Gaius would have an answer to his ailment.” Without responding, he simply nods taking in the words as he’s done multiple times before. Standing back up, Arthur faces Poleth, eyes determined as ever promising, “this beast will not attack your village again. My men and I will stop at nothing to make sure of it.” Being his last chance of survival, Poleth pleads his thanks one after another begging for his highness to truly do so and that they will forever be in his debt. Clasping Poleth’s shoulder, Arthur shakes it a little then makes a clear command for his knights to prepare and get ready. </p><p>	When they ride into the forest going as deeply within as Poleth instructed, an eerie silence flits over them as nightfall soon strikes the land, and then, like a bomb, it happens. The creature rushes from the depths of the earth nearing and attacking from every angle. The knights stand their ground clashing, fighting, and battling what they can as Merlin guards their backs using simple little spells to disturb the Wendigo’s movement. It screams and shrieks in agitation flying them to the ground knocking most out from the impact of hard rock against their head. Luckily, Merlin was spared the cement and rises from his perch making sure they were all there before charging the creature himself. From what he could tell, they were all unconscious and perfectly unaware allowing his true self to show.</p><p>	Whispering an incantation below lips, eyes shimmering gold, harsh blinding lights surrounds the forest capturing the skin-torn, bony beast within its shine. Releasing the most horrendous, tortured scream he’s heard throughout his entire life, the Wendigo charges with claws ready to tear but instead, is flown against a tree. Holding his palm out to the side whispering for a sword to answer his call, the handle of Elyan’s sword flings into his hand. Enchanting the metal forming it into one of pure silver, he slings it along the air guiding it straight for the Wendigo’s gut, and as it slices through, the Wendigo’s body turns tense before blowing into a thousand pieces leaving nothing but smoke and ash. </p><p>	The powerful, blinding lights disappear leaving room for the twinkling moonlight to shine about. Going to check on the knights, he tries turning but the sharp point of a sword presses deeply into his back paralyzing him with fear, shock, and dread. Even without looking, he already knows who it is and all hopes of a bright future scatter and distinguish. Wanting to move aside and explain, on instinct his feet waver but are stopped by the pressure of the sword digging deeper into his back. “Don’t move,” Arthur all but sneers. “Don’t do anything.” It takes Merlin a moment to realize there’s a scant of hurt in the man’s voice, but it’s subtle throughout the king’s next heart-wrenching words. “All this time, all the lies, how could you! I should…” stopping himself from finishing the unbidden threat, he removes the sword from Merlin’s back but the relief is brief as the young sorcerer is spun around where a harsh hand strikes against his cheek leaving a stinging ache.</p><p>	Unshed tears gathering in his eyes, his entire being starts shaking from how drastically his life has just changed. Arthur is breathing heavily unknowing of what to do, thoughts racing like a beating heart on an adrenaline rush. Merlin takes the short silence between them to say what he can, starting off with, “I’m sorry,” and in meeting the king’s betrayed, fuming eyes, a tear escapes one of his own as he rushes to clarify, “I was born with it, Arthur, please, I’ve only ever used it for you and to help protect Camelot!” How pathetic would it be for him to beg for his life to his once beloved friend? Merlin nearly falls to the ground in desperation at what to do knowing there is only one clear option for his betrayal: death. Stepping away slightly to gather what strength he has left, Merlin whispers, “If you wish to kill me, I understand but I beg of you,” meeting the King’s calculatingly cold poker face, he finishes “do it here. I’d rather die by your hands among the forest than to a nameless executioner in Camelot.” Merlin closes his right hand around his left forearm as he kneels onto the ground in front of the King closing eyes and bending neck as tears begin flowing one after another awaiting his final fate.</p><p>	In the distance, groans, moans, and complaints are grumbled behind them as Gwaine is the first to notice the odd situation encountering before them. His first instinct is to protect the one worse for wear, Merlin, but Arthur raises his sword between them, eyes demanding complete surrender. Soon enough, the other knights are on their feet squabbling to figure out why their greatest friends are reacting so forlorn towards each other. Without allowing Merlin to speak, Arthur coldly reveals, “Merlin is a sorcerer.” All the men blink several times taking in the newfound information, all but Sir Lancelot who approaches the two, eyes worriedly scouring Merlin for an explanation as to how Arthur found out. Merlin keeps eyes downcast knowing there is nothing they can do to overrule the king’s decision.</p><p>	Percival steps closer by Lancelot’s side dumbfounded on what to say or do. The only thing he can manage to gather is that, no matter what Merlin is, he knows the boy has no ill intentions toward them. Sir Leon and Elyan join by their sides not long after, all knights seeming to be on the same page as they worriedly exchange looks with one another. There was cold dread among them because they knew if Arthur demanded Merlin be killed, they could and would not be able to deny the request, personal feelings aside. Lancelot was the first to find his voice hoping to aid the young sorcerer in any way he could. “Your majesty, do what you must but I strongly encourage you to show mercy. He has stood by our sides despite the dangers and saved our lives on several occasions, even if it meant risking his own.” The knights agree by nodding their heads humming to this rightful truth.</p><p>	Arthur didn’t need to be told this, he could remember all the moments spent between Merlin and himself covering for one another in battle against whatever foe they were facing. However, that didn’t change the fact Merlin lied to him, had kept such an important secret from the King himself, and for that, his heart hardened. He would not kill Merlin, knew he couldn’t even if he tried, but that didn’t mean the boy was going to be let off easy. “You’re right Lancelot,” Arthur icily voices, “and for that, his life will be spared.” At that, the slightest bit of hope grows within Merlin as his head gently lifts up, eyes widening with surprise, but such wishes dash away once more at the frozen stare of hatred meeting his. “We are to return to Camelot at first dawn where I will decide your sentence. In the meantime, Gwaine, Percival, you two are to guard Merlin and make sure he does not run off.” Without losing eye contact, eyes hardening like icicles, Arthur lifts his sword pointing the tip to his throat threatening, “because if you do, I will have you killed at first chance.” The knights breathe calmer knowing there won’t be blood spilled between friends and while the circumstance isn’t ideal, it means Merlin will live.</p><p>	When they got back to the small village, the people threw a small feast with what they could for the men who defeated the snarling Wendigo but none of the men were in such a giddy mood. Arthur had Merlin flanked by Elyan and Gwaine the entire time without bothering to look or even speak with him. Merlin had been sent to sleep in the building with the dead men while the other knights were provided rooms and bedding. It isn’t that there wasn’t enough room for Merlin but because this was the beginning of Arthur’s wrath. Lancelot warned the young sorcerer when it was just them that even though Merlin was free to run away, he should not do so. That it would be best to stay and prove loyal to Arthur despite the freedom to disappear. Merlin thanked the knight for such advice despite already knowing as much. He wouldn’t run. He would face whatever fate Arthur assigned him back in Camelot.</p><p>	The morning after did not improve the king’s attitude towards his once trusted friend, if anything, the tension was worse. Neither had gotten much sleep that night, in fact, even the knights were sluggish in their movement as they mounted their horses. Merlin was surprised to find his lovely mare mounted with bags of food, belongings, and essentials but it didn’t last for long. It made sense for the king to make him walk back, perhaps he would tie Merlin’s wrists together and drag him through the land. This thought was vanquished at the tight grip of muscle dragging him to Llamrei where his mind soon caught up to what was happening. Steel pierced the air from Arthur’s guttural voice as he demands, “get on.” Doing as told, Merlin saddles the front as Arthur soon joins atop securing the reins in his hands cornering Merlin with his arms from being able to drop off and run should he wish to try. It was to be expected.</p><p>	Each knight of Camelot watch the transaction with subtle sorrow. Yes, it was a sure surprise to find the young minded Merlin a sorcerer but it explained so much, the disappearing at odd hours, mysterious knowledge of serious occurrences, and him surviving through battles involving swordsmanship. Never once had they witnessed a more loyal servant than the captive man on King Arthur’s horse and for that, they vowed to look after him in the elusive ways they could.</p><p>	Nobody talked the entire time, and at moments, Arthur would lose his concentration thinking back on a memory between him and the boy in front which would result in a joke wishing to come forth but then he would realize the situation and be displeased all the more. When they arrive in Camelot, the people cheer their greetings all the way to the entrance of the castle as Uther and servants await their arrival. Arthur whispers harshly into Merlin’s ear, “say and do nothing until I give word,” which is met with a small, barely recognizable nod. The king’s hate for the situation grows a thousand times deeper at the proud smile his Father bestows him; his men ripping any cheerful memories between him and Merlin away.</p><p>	As the former ruler and his son rejoice their reunion, the King gives word to Sir Leon requesting with the slightest tilt of nerve, “escort Merlin to Gaius, he must be looked after at once.” Each knight understanding the hidden meaning, Leon bows steering Merlin to their Court Physician. At least Merlin would be able to find comfort in the one who treated him as the son he never had. Uther began questioning about Merlin’s wellbeing inquiring the two riding on Llamrei together, in which Arthur responds, “he was attacked by the Wendigo in our fight and while his wounds were taken care of at the village, we didn’t trust he could ride well on his own without struggle. Besides, the village was so happy in our victory, they provided many rations of food as reward which our horses could not carry along with us, so we used Merlin’s to carry such gifts.” The lie was simple, smooth, and removed any suspicion Uther might of had.</p><p>	On their way to Gaius, Sir Leon puts his hand on Merlin’s back in a form of comfort softly gathering, “he will not harm you my friend and we will do what we can to dissuade any harsh punishment. However,” stopping them in the hall near the physician’s door, Leon presses, “you should have told him sooner Merlin, he had a right to know. I understand you were protecting each other but that is a burden you shouldn’t have taken yourself to carry. From now on, you must lay low.” The sorcerer wanted nothing more than to cry from the soft words of concern and comfort, but his pride wouldn’t let him. He was exhausted from their trip and heartbroken from the heated glare that had been attached to the back of his neck on their way back. Gaius was going to be furious with him.</p><p>	The men clasp each other’s arm in a sign of friendship and as Merlin steps into the familiar room, Gaius stands from his stool rushing to greet his boy. “Oh Merlin, I’m so glad you’re safe.” The two run into a tight hug where the sorcerer does his best containing clogging tears. Releasing one another, Gaius going on about how proud he is of the boy, he stops noticing the shaking shoulders and tightly clenched eyelids. “Merlin,” grasping his shoulders, he asks, “what is it?” With those simple words, like a dam being broken, Merlin all but slinks onto the nearest bench letting out concealed sobs of remorse, anger, and fear.</p><p>	Unknowing the cause of the sorcerer’s pain, Gaius sits next to him rubbing the boy’s back hoping to provide some sort of solace. It helps, but not a lot. “I’m an idiot,” he breathes between a shortened cry. “I thought they were passed out, that Arthur was unconscious,” staring up at Gaius, eyes wide, red, and wet, he goes on, “but he wasn’t. The Wendigo was going to kill them and I had to do something. I- I cast a blinding spell and enchanted Elyan’s sword with silver. It did the trick but-” pausing to stop himself from crying any further, he catches himself finishing with a weep, “Arthur saw, he saw everything.” Gaius freezes, hand halting on sorcerer’s back. Standing in front of Merlin wanting to beat him for not double-checking Arthur’s being awake, the notion stops due to fear of what is meant for this precious boy.</p><p>	Placing hands on both shoulders, the physician stares into the broken boy’s eyes querying, “he did not kill you, so what does he intend to do?” Kneeling, he inquires further, a bit of desperation and dread filtering through his voice as he pushes, “does he intend to execute you?” When Merlin shakes his head no, a breath of relief sorts from him as his heart slowly comes to a calmer rate. If not death though, what does the king wish to do to Merlin? The question is silently asked but he realizes the boy doesn’t know through the fright filtering eyes, body, and tears. “It’ll be alright, I promise Merlin. Do the knights know?” Merlin shakes his head yes, words lost to his tongue from the growing and growing panic. He hates this. All of it. Maybe he should have let Arthur kill him, at least then he wouldn’t be like this. Distraught and worrisome, his fears bringing about Gaius’s own.</p><p>	The last thing he wants is to bring his burdens onto the physician’s shoulders, so with the smallest bit of strength he can gather, Merlin details, “Arthur told them. They had woken up a little afterward and he- he told them.” Swallowing a harsh lump down his throat, he manages, “they were surprised, naturally, but vouched for me.” Gaius could have hugged every knight from the news but instead promises to think of a plentifully repayment.</p><p>	Understanding the dire dangerous situation Merlin is in, Gaius gathers his thoughts quickly instructing the boy, “I don’t want you doing anything reckless these next few days. Arthur won’t kill you, that much I know for sure, however, he will surely want you punished abiding by his father’s law.” Merlin knew Gaius is right, and for once, he’s going to listen. As much as it’s going to kill him staying stuck in this room, it’s the safest place for him until he knows exactly what the king has in mind. They hug once more and as Gaius urges Merlin to get some sleep, the warlock fights little falling onto mattress nearly passing out from exhaustion.</p><p>	That evening, he awakes to a light knock on the door, and as he groggily sits up wiping morning from his eyes, both Gaius and Sir Leon walk inside, mute tension thickening the air. As formal as possible, like a soldier to a nameless peasant, he states, “the king wishes to see you in his chambers.” The tension grows by another inch but nonetheless, Merlin gets up ready to be done with this fear of the unknown. Gaius pats his shoulder as reassuringly as possible, which somehow makes his guilt worsen but with a tight, short smile in turn, Merlin follows Leon through the halls to the familiar room he has tended before. “Good luck,” the knight whispers before opening the door letting him inside. Announcing Merlin’s arrival, Leon is dismissed seconds later closing the door on his way out. Standing there as evenly as he can, Merlin lifts his head but doesn’t meet the king’s frigid eyes piercing every movement.</p><p>	As Arthur stands from the chair nestled near his desk setting a quill down, he stalks two feet closer, his domineering presence choking Merlin’s mind. “I’ve thought it over and over how somebody I’ve known for this long could keep such a secret from me. Somebody who knows I am not my father and seeks justice rather than recognition.” On any other occasion, Merlin would say it’s because he’s a clot pole but his lips remain shut. “I never would of revealed you Merlin, never had you hung or allowed you to be put on the executioner’s list.” The boy wants to ask what he would have done then if he had told him, if Arthur had found out through his own confession, but he doesn’t knowing it isn’t his place to speak at the moment. “Still, it is a crime for magic to be allowed within Camelot and I am not above the law, at least at the moment…” he mutters the last part quietly, taking him by surprise. Continuing, the king’s voice hardens, explaining, “which you know as such.” Indeed, it's a fact he knows all too well. “From this point on, I am relieving you of your duties as my manservant. You are to stay under the Court Physician’s guide or return home. You are not allowed to get near the royal family unless it requires so in the fields of medicine under Gaius’s watch. You will be set on a curfew restricting when and where you can go and I forbid you to set foot on the training grounds. Have I made myself clear?” Crystal, Merlin thinks, crumpling misery clenching his chest.</p><p>	Faintly bowing pushing tears aside, he mutters, “yes Sire.” With a final nod, Arthur dismisses him with a behavior so formal, so proper, so tense one would think he’d been talking to a mindless stranger the entire time. When he leaves, Leon is nowhere to be seen and the mage rushes for his room not knowing how long he’ll be able to keep the relentless tears away. Gaius nearly falls to the floor with relief from the sentence Arthur declared for Merlin, but despite the good fortune and how much worse it could have been, he sympathizes for the young boy who had lost his best friend and king in so little time. Providing as many comforts as he can, Gaius instructs Merlin go bathe for he stinks like a pig out of mud and get some well-needed sleep. The sorcerer holds no argument doing as instructed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Unimaginable Fate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The following two weeks after his sentence, Merlin was faring worse and worse. Arthur wouldn’t spare him a glimpse on the rare occasions they came into close proximity and instead of being able to join along the missions the king went on, Merlin was to stay in Camelot unable to protect him. Luckily the last few missions were short, lacking in dangerous adventure. They were tedious affairs concerning diplomacy, treaties, and alliances. The knights checked on him when they could, but lately, their training had been amplified and increased to where they had no desire other than going to bed afterward. Especially for Sir Lancelot who confessed to their king he knew about Merlin’s secret since the time of the Griffin. He’d been trying to explain that, in Merlin’s case, magic was being used for good but it backfired rather than helped.</p>
<p>	Gwen had no idea what to think when she discovered the reasons for Merlin’s sudden departure from Arthur’s side. She aligned with the knights in her belief that he was of no harm to them. No matter, their words of encouragement only did so much. If anything, it grew old to Merlin who knew their cares and good wishes were built on false hope and fake promises that everything would get better. He knew Arthur and him were too far gone to ever build back the friendship they once had. Say they did rekindle somewhat of their usual encounters, it wouldn’t change the distrust Arthur had for him.</p>
<p>	The final straw that broke the camel’s back was when Merlin had been ordered to fetch a few herbs in the local market because Gaius needed them for an experimental salve used for tongue swelling. On his way there through the castle ground, he heard a sound he feared would never trace his ears again. Near an entrance stood Arthur laughing with hand clasping a fellow companions’ shoulder, their joyous nature bringing memories Merlin fought to remember, much less acknowledge. It was ordinary, warm, and calming, but the alleviation ended the moment his king turned finding Merlin’s sight before the mage could dodge behind a wall. Instantly, the bright smile transformed into a straight-faced stone wall with an incessant frown, lightless eyes, and a body that coiled with tautness under less than three seconds.</p>
<p>	Arthur turns his back leaving his companion confused at the sudden lack of interest before turning to see what changed the king’s behavior so quickly, but Merlin was already gone. The thought of leaving Camelot, his friends, Gaius, and Arthur… it seemed an impossibility for him. By choosing to stay, at least he could be under the same roof as Arthur but now he realized it was futile. The look. He couldn’t bare to see it on his king’s face all the while knowing it was because of him that caused it. To see a man’s face shine with the light of a thousand suns disappear like a ghost so swiftly as that was enough to determine Merlin’s decision despite the further languish it brought him.</p>
<p>	Perhaps going home was what he needed anyway. It would be a lie to say he didn’t miss his mother and the village was always in need of extra hands, especially during the harsh winters. Unwilling to ponder, debate, and procrastinate this final choice, he rushes straight for the physician who was still waiting on the herbs Merlin came without. Gaius knew something was up as soon as he saw the young boy’s face. Had the king changed his mind? Was he to lose the only boy he’d thought of as a son? No, Arthur wouldn’t do that, specially not after two weeks, however, it didn’t lessen his worry. “What is it my boy? Speak, go on!” If Merlin keeps pulling stuff like this, he doesn’t think he’s going to make it by the end of the year. It’s been hard on Gaius seeing Merlin so upset without a remedy to heal.</p>
<p>	The two sitting down at the table they’ve dined at other times before, Merlin expounds regretfully, near delirious, “I need to go back to Ealdor.” Going on about what happened, he rushes, “It doesn’t make sense for me to stay here anyway. If I can’t be able to protect him, then why be here at all? Gaius I…” bowing his head shamefully at the ground, he mumbles, “I don’t think I can stay here any longer with how things are. Camelot needs a king fit to rule and I’m only getting in the way of that by remaining here.” Gaius understood, he really did, but a part of him wanted to smack the back of Merlin’s head for thinking he was in the way. No matter, it wasn’t his choice, only Merlins’ and he would do well to respect that resolve, whether agreeable or not. Furthermore, the boy did have a point. Things weren’t getting better and he supposed, for the sake of mental healing, it might be good for Merlin to be with his mother and the village he grew up in.</p>
<p>	Hugging him once more, he reluctantly lets go nodding his head resolutely. “Very well. I’ll have someone prepare you a horse at first light.” Gulping, Merlin strains a short smile going to bed afterward with a non-existent appetite. Gaius steps outside where a pair of guards are stationed to make sure the boy doesn’t leave without their knowing, and instructs, “please have someone prepare a horse for the morning. Merlin intends to go home at first light.” The announcement was regarded and as one left to deliver the orders, the other stays still.</p>
<p>	A little while later he cracks Merlin’s door open peeking inside to see him asleep with faint tear stains dried over his skin. Sighing, Gaius closes the door walking back to his table of glass bottles and jars when a knock lands on the physician’s door more as an announcement than request. Arthur inviting himself in. Gaius nervously glances at Merlin’s quarters but inquires Arthur’s surprising visit wondering if he has a sore shoulder or strained arm from training. “Your majesty, what can I help you with at such a late hour? Is everything alright?” The king stands for a minute observing the room as if waiting for a goblin to jump out of nowhere. Gaius doesn’t blame him and refrains from asking again. </p>
<p>	Seating himself on the fourth stair step, he reaches out his arm pointing to a large bruise on his elbow. “Something for this would be greatly appreciated.” Knowing just the thing, the Court Physician scans shelves for the lotion meant to heal all sorts of different cuts and bruises. During this scavenge, Arthur proceeds, “does he really intend to go?” Finding the question unexpected, Gaius peeks at the king finding his face clouded by thought. Locating the lotion on the last shelf, Gaius sits on the third staircase opening its lid taking out some of the balm.</p>
<p>	With his other hand, he holds the noble’s arm rubbing cream along the bruise. “He does my Lord.” A draft of cold air rushes from between the cracks and openings spread throughout the walls of the room. Arthur remains passive until Gaius grabs a cloth to wash his hand before screwing the lid back shut.</p>
<p>	Following the Court Physician to the shelves, his bruise nothing more than a simple scrape, he purses lips wanting to know the reason. “Why? Is it because he thinks I intend to kill him?” There is bitterness biting from each word but he cares not. Merlin should’ve told him. Instead, he kept it to himself for so long to where, no matter the good deeds he’s done, it doesn’t change the fact Arthur had been lied to.</p>
<p>	Gaius doesn’t fall for the bait, doesn’t patronize or antagonize the man. Arthur is still his king and that will never change. “You and I both know that is not the reason your highness. Merlin is not a coward. If you changed your mind this very second, he would willingly die.” The truth pierces between them and for a second Arthur goes to apologize knowing it isn’t right to vent on the man who has acted as Merlin’s father. Instead, he holds his tongue. Gaius stands in front of Arthur noting the small dark lines under the king’s eyes making a note to provide a sleeping drug. “In truth Sire, he has not been faring well as of late. We both decided it be best he return to Ealdor where he can be with his village. Besides, Hunith has been requesting Merlin visit her for quite some time now. He is her son after all.” Arthur believes Gaius to be telling the truth but knows there is more to the story. Something the physician must not think is his place to speak of.</p>
<p>	Moving back to the table, Gaius begins mixing a couple of ingredients unknown to Arthur and explains he is making a sleeping enhancer for him. The king doesn’t argue thinking of how great it would be to actually get a real night’s rest. Thanking the physician, Arthur remains on the staircase watching Gaius work. “You knew, didn’t you? About Merlin?” Gaius doesn’t say anything but nods in confirmation. Arthur should be mad, furious even at the known truth, but at this point, he’s not surprised. In fact, he wouldn’t blink an eye if the entire kingdom knew but him. “I see,” he drawls, lifting his head to stare at the closed wooden door leading to his old friend. So, in the end he’s choosing to run. Arthur sighs knowing it’s cruel to think such of Merlin, specially after all he’s done to avoid the man. The anger is still there, still burning like a furnace during a blizzard, so after Gaius hands up the liquid, he thanks him shortly and leaves.</p>
<p>	First light comes faster than Merlin anticipated. Just as Gaius promised, a black stallion was prepared for take-off with a bag full of enough essentials to get him home. Gwen had run to the entrance thinking she was too late but hugs him tightly to find she wasn’t. Attached to her belt is a fastened sword of light, sharp metal for a gift. “May it protect you well,” she grants, delicate tears gathering in her eyes. He could have kissed her at that moment but doesn’t because one, he had no desire for her in that way, and two, Lancelot would not appreciate it. The knights appear not long after, each one patting, hugging, and giving him their farewells. Merlin wasn’t shocked to find Arthur absent among them, and as Elyan noticed his searching eyes, he gave his condolences for his highness explaining there was an important council meeting Arthur couldn’t miss.</p>
<p>	Merlin knew it was a lie, but it was lighter to hear than the truth. Gaius waited patiently as the last to bid the boy goodbye, the two hugging the longest before separating. “Take care of yourself Merlin, I mean it.” Smiling with the faintest bit of his former self shining through, he promises and adds that he plans to keep it this time. Little did all of them know on the second floor of the castle near a window view of his departure did Arthur watch with a resigned sigh and wetted eyes. He would deny it should the world ever find out, but nonetheless, it happened. Urging the steed onward, the pair fade away through the trees, yet even when far out of sight, Arthur remains perched by the window as if waiting for the man to come back. Twenty minutes pass before he is interrupted by a guard relaying his father’s wishes to speak with him. Arthur follows with one last look through the glassed window.</p>
<p>	On his way sleeping under stars when nightfall hits, Merlin dreamlessly sleeps awakening from every sound that may entail danger. He doesn’t know how to get over himself, how to distract his mind, or ignore the continuing pang that haunts his chest like a tortured soul. The  next day on arrival, he finds tears spilling down his cheeks at the mere sight of his mother walking along a dirt path with a pale of water in her left hand. At notice of the rider, she drops it immediately running towards him with arms spread open. She pampers him with hugs and kisses, her arms pulling him into their house leading Merlin next to the fireplace that flickers back and forth. “Oh my son, my darling son,” she repeats, hands running through his hair and a proud smiling bringing out one of his own. “How I’ve missed you”, she fawns. </p>
<p>	They sit by the fire atop blankets to make the ground bearably comfortable. She was not expecting to see him for another couple of months at least but the mere sight of her son is enough to multitude her happiness. Only after sitting together for a few minutes in tranquility does she ask what happened in Camelot because surely Merlin would not have left nor come by himself if something wasn’t wrong. There's sadness beneath the joy of seeing her that glazes along his blue irises. A deep grieving sorrow she cannot imagine the cause of. Without much reluctance, he retells the memories of what occurred between him and the king. She was at a loss for words. Arthur spared her son. To her, that was all that truly mattered and it’s what spoke the most. He gave Merlin a way out which she will be eternally grateful for.</p>
<p>	Nevertheless, her son was heartbroken in a way that could only be healed by time. “I’m sorry my dear,” she utters, sincerity lacing every word. He is too, mostly because it was his job to look after Arthur but failed and was now an outcast to a place he once thought of as his own home. Banishing the melancholy thoughts as far away as possible, he kisses his mother’s hand leaning onto her shoulder finding the most peace he’s been able to locate in her arms. He falls into a deep sleep, eyes fading closed from the warm fire and his mother’s embrace. “That’s it my love, rest,” she warms, lips kissing his forehead.</p>
<p>	A week of laboring in fields, taking care of his mother, running around with old friends, and lazying under twinkling night skies, day by day he finds himself chirping a little more. Naturally nothing good can last for long when it comes to him. During one sunny evening, at the back of his home airing laundry on a line, a shudder runs through his veins at the feel of powerful magic calling from the forest. It’s too far from Ealdor to cause a threat, but when he feels the layers of magic again, he almost senses the exact location of its source close to Camelot’s walls. He shouldn’t care, shouldn’t be worried, shouldn’t go and assess its intentions, but there’s a soundless warning whispering he actually should.</p>
<p>	Fiddling with the sheets dangling over their lines, he tries ignoring the next wave of power hoping it’ll eventually stop. Being rare for a sorcerer to present their talents so openly, especially within Camelot’s reach, he knows it's odd and suspicious but still pretends nothing is wrong. Unable to disregard the uneasiness clenching in his gut after the tenth wave, he hastily collects the linen fabric folding them into his basket before rushing home. Cleaning out the fireplace, Hunith jumps at the rash intrusion of her son but before she can scold him on manners, one look at him abstains her from doing so. “I have to go back, something’s out there close to Camelot in the woods. I don’t know what or who it is but I know nothing good can come of it.” Pursing her lips from pleading him stay, she nods gathering a bag of food and waterskin for the journey.</p>
<p>	No time is wasted as he hugs her one final time during which she makes him promise to return safely. “Don’t worry mother, I’ll be back before you know it,” he pledges, a cheeky smile playing his lips mounting the stallion. Gone before she can count to three, Hunith observes her courageous son with pride as he disappears through the trees. I know you will, she whispers to herself. Dashing across dirt, rock, and grass between narrow, thick, and hollow trees, Merlin keeps a speedy pace guided by scent of wizardry. Finally close, he scans with horror at the armored knights splayed dead on filthy, rotten ground. There’s no greenery to be seen whatsoever with mud, grey rock, and dried lifeless grass sticking sparsely outward. Riding closer past a set of boulders, his eyes widen at the remaining knight swinging his sword in defense against a wounded creature of two legs, wide neck, and large fangs nearly reaching ground. Arthur?</p>
<p>	Merlin dismounts and runs to his aid but reevaluates his target as a man dressed in silver cloak summons seven feet behind the king holding a wooden staff carved in enchantments. Just as the necromancer points the tip of his scepter to the king’s back, Merlin shouts, “Arthur, look out,” and holds up his palm mightily throwing the stranger far away. At that moment, Arthur manages to puncture the creature’s chest with his sword who then turns around where the sorcerer had almost speared him. Noting the silver cloaked man knocked out twenty yards off, Arthur looks in the direction from where he’d heard his name being called.</p>
<p>	Time seems to stand still for the two as they regard one another until Arthur eventually breaks eye contact in exchange for retrieving his sword. Yanking it from the creature’s chest, he marches toward Merlin uninterested in anything else besides wanting to know, “are you the cause of that- that thing?” Saying he was mad would be putting it lightly. Arthur was infuriated. With one simple look, Merlin could tell the king was weak, weary, and pissed. “Choose your next words carefully,” he warns, raising sword to the sorcerer currently regretting his conclusion to come.</p>
<p>	Backing up, hands raised, Merlin peers into the king’s eyes hurt at the thought that Arthur would think him capable of such a horrid crime. Without batting an eyelash, he confesses, “I would never do such a thing. I sensed a dangerous magic and followed it here.” Hard to tell if he’s lying or not, Arthur debates between believing him or not, and in the end, lowers the sword but not his guard. Catching the breath he’d been holding, Merlin points to the unmoving man cautioning, “It was him, I don’t know who he is or what he wants. All I know is that he possesses a very dangerous, dark magic.” Merlin speaking as they eye the moveless body, both startle when the old man slowly stands chuckling like a demon gone mad.</p>
<p>	Immediately, Arthur prepares his sword ready for a battle with this unknown warlock. He’d deal with Merlin later, for now he had to ensure Camelot’s safety against this unwelcome threat. The wizard glances at the king with a sour smile before turning attention to the one he’s much more interested in. “I am Vasile Malfoy, master of shadows and you, my boy, are Emrys, the greatest sorcerer known to walk this earth. It is an honor,” he all but spews. </p>
<p>	Apathetic to Vasile’s bait, Merlin bawls fists prompting, “what do you want? There is no reason for you to have slaughtered these innocent men, much less murder the king!” Arthur remains silent, sword still raised with his mind racing between his raising gratitude for Merlin’s defending Camelot’s men, his pleasure in knowing Merlin wasn’t the cause of this mess, and his rage at Vasile Malfoy.</p>
<p>	As if having lit a match, the wizard sneers in disgust bursting flames at the palm of his hands. “Innocent men? Do you even know the meaning of the word? How many of our kind has he and all of Camelot killed? How many have suffered at the hands of a Pendragon?” So it was a means of revenge then. Alright, Merlin can handle that he supposes.</p>
<p>	Rearing hand at the once and future king, Merlin insists, “and mindlessly killing in return will bring them back? What good will it do? Arthur is not his father and has been a right and just ruler! If you insist on murdering him, I will have no other choice than to protect him.” Offended by the betraying words of his kin, Vasile nearly falls over in a fit of laughter and rage. How dare such a simpleton regard him so rebelliously? How fascinating!</p>
<p>	Arthur scoffs to himself peeved at the outspokenness of his ex-manservant and the loyal declarations spewing forthwith from the banished fool. A small inch of appreciation, mirth, and amusement trace his thoughts counteracting built confusion but he simply avoids them altogether. Laughing without joy, Vasile steps forward, eyes sternly set on Merlin which causes a quick reaction from the king to step in front of him. “Stay where you are!” This just keeps getting better and better, Vasile muses to himself. </p>
<p>	Wrapping hands around his back, the magician looks between the two with a growing, evil smile languishing across his lips. “Well, well, well, a sorcerer protecting a Pendragon and a Pendragon protecting a sorcerer. How very odd indeed. Your family has hunted my kind for years yet you shield one. Whoever heard of such a thing?” Arthur’s tired of hearing the old crone talk and has a growing headache thump against his forehead. Why is he defending Merlin? Out of habit? Glancing back at his old friend, memories of the times they spent together flood among his brain as they have been for the past few days. The only thing Arthur can gather is that, no matter what, he can’t see Merlin hurt, least of all dead. When neither of the two respond as rapidly as the wizard wants, Vasile’s vexation grows. “Very well then, keep it to yourselves.” Raising  hands, eyes glowing crimson red, the Wizard breathes a spell that he’s unable to finish due to the Author’s sword wasting no time.</p>
<p>	The warlock falls to the ground releasing a shriek so egregious, so blaring that both men clasp their ears from. In one last act of revolt, the warlock summons a dagger from a fallen soldier commanding it straight for Arthur’s chest. Merlin, eyes clenched from the growing screams, notices the blade just in time to diverge its path from king’s heart to shoulder. Releasing a pained cry of his own, Arthur falls back as blood begins dripping from the opened wound. Eyes shuddering gold, Merlin digs the sword deeper into the warlock’s belly distinguishing all life from him. Kneeling Arthur’s side, he observes the wound glad to know it’s nothing the man won’t heal from. “We have to get you out of here!” Looking around, the sorcerer’s glad to find Llamrei not far staring at the both of them knowingly. Gathering her and his own horse, Arthur does what he can to help saddle his lovely mare with grunts distressing Merlin by the minute.</p>
<p>	Whispering an incantation to at least stop the bleeding, Merlin doesn’t do anything else doubting Arthur would appreciate the magical assistance, especially with the terms they were on. Speaking of which, despite how close Camelot is, Merlin’s not going to be able to take him there. While he’s sure the kingdom is still in the dark about what happened between him and their prized ruler, the castle itself knows he is unwanted. Should the sorcerer deliver their precious king bloody and wounded, they would certainly blame him. Plus, Arthur would be too debilitated to say much in stopping them.</p>
<p>	Perceiving the direction Merlin guides them along, his majesty remarks warningly, “where do you think you’re taking me? Camelot is the other way you dimwit!” The insult really shouldn’t put a smile on Merlin’s face, really, it was actually quite rude, but somehow, someway, it does. He never thought he and his king would be on talking terms again but it seems he was mistaken.</p>
<p>	Quickening their pace, Merlin responds, “I’m not welcome in Camelot, remember? They’ll think I tried to murder you. I’d suggest you ride back to Camelot alone but you’re too weak and that wound isn’t going to heal itself anytime soon.” Arthur wants to refute the words, to tell Merlin he’s wrong, tell him Camelot wouldn’t mind his return, but he doesn’t. For now, that conversation must wait. Within a blink of an eye, they arrive in Ealdor.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Needs of Camelot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hunith was scurrying around the house collecting clean rags, buckets of water, herbal medicines, and bandages to wrap Arthur’s wounds while Merlin cleared the dinner table in order to lay the king atop it. Shoulder bare for mending, the young mage begins disinfecting the injury as quickly, efficiently, and fluently as he can without causing too much harm. Hunith gives Arthur a potent meant to numb the laceration during its time of healing, and luckily it helps. About ten minutes were dedicated to the wound with all materials available in keeping it from infecting or growing worse. Arthur found the pain minuscule and rarely blinked an eye when Merlin began stitching the skin together carefully. He was a soldier, warrior, king, and it was his job to be able to handle these types of situations.</p>
<p>	When they finish remedying what they can, Hunith travels to fetch a couple ingredients since it was well past dinner time thus leaving her son and his highness together. The fireplace burns brightly flickering wild flames at the tips, its warmth radiating the small cottage heating each and every corner. Despite the loud crackling fire, crickets humming, and wolves howling from their dens, total silence remains between the two men as Merlin creates a makeshift bed for the king using what blankets he can gather. Merlin helping the king down from the table, Arthur releases a sigh of exhaustion as he slides onto the stopgap bed using pillow and wall to prop him up. Trying to keep busy, Merlin fusses around the house picking this and that up begging for his mother to return quickly inside his head. She doesn’t.</p>
<p>	About ten more minutes pass of Arthur observing Merlin and Merlin trying to keep himself occupied. Eventually, the inevitable comes as Arthur heavily sighs, “tell me something, why did you do it? The wizard could’ve killed me, but you didn’t let him. Why?” To Merlin, it’s probably one of the stupidest questions he feels Arthur’s ever asked him, but at the same time he understands their friendship isn’t what it once was. Building trust takes enough time as is, but building it back after breaking it is a force to reckon with.</p>
<p>	Shrugging, knowing the obvious answer but evading the full truth, Merlin meets his eyes finally standing still admitting, “the same reason you let me go I suppose.” It was an honest answer, one Arthur accepts without further question. An almost awkward air spreads between them, each wanting to say so much to where they weren’t able to say anything at all. Eventually, Merlin hesitantly sits a few feet away from Arthur curious about those left behind in Camelot. “How is everyone? Are they doing well?” It was an ice breaker but one he truly did care about.</p>
<p>	There was a small shift of attitude at the question, Arthur’s body tensing and brows furrowing as if trying to figure out the answer. Finally, he regards Merlin for a second or so hastening, “they miss you.” Obviously that wasn’t all of it, but it’s what he could manage before finding the right words he’d been practicing a while now. “Camelot hasn’t been the same since you left. Gaius tends to stay in his room more and the knights are oddly withdrawn, even Gwaine.” Merlin’s heart flutters at the sincerity, a dam wanting to break beneath his calm, clear eyes. He wants to hear more, wants to know everything about everyone and what they’ve been up to. What Arthur’s been up to. He bites the inside of his cheek knowing the king would feel less inclined to give up such information.</p>
<p>	Nodding, Merlin stands heading for the kitchen where he quickly wipes escaping tears. Finding composure, he returns shortly with a cup of water for his highness to drink, and as he hands it to Arthur, Merlin can’t help but wonder, “do you think I could ever see them again?” He immediately regrets the subject when Arthur’s bare blue eyes deliver a harsh, intense stare eyeing him like a fallen bird chirping for its freedom. Pursing lips, Merlin mutters an apology quickly gathering himself but is stopped from retreating by a keen clutch around his elbow.</p>
<p>	Setting the cup down, Arthur observes his once friend and agrees with himself that what he’s about to do is the right decision. “Merlin,” he starts, pausing to find correct diction. “I need you to come back to Camelot with me.” Caught unprepared expecting to have been reprimanded instead, Merlin nearly falls from the confession he never thought to hear. He barely manages a what before Arthur continues onward, eyes set as steel. “Obviously there will be terms you must follow that cannot be broken. I mean it Merlin, I know you don’t like being told what to do and rarely ever follow orders, but there will be promises I demand be kept that cannot go unbroken.” Worry at what the conditions might entail, Merlin reluctantly agrees hopeful for a future in Camelot he thought lost to him.</p>
<p>	At that moment, Hunith returns with a basketful of vegetables and cold meats ready to be cooked and served. They quietly eat dinner with Arthur thanking her as properly as a king can and vows to repay her for the kindness she’s shown. A small, light smile tilts her lips as she grabs his hand with hers, Merlin watching in confusion as she insists, “It is I who should thank you, my Lord. You spared my son’s life.” Flushing at her gratitude, Arthur gazes at Merlin who’s cheeks have slightly flushed embarrassed by his overbearing, coddling mother. It nearly makes the noble laugh.</p>
<p>	Sleep doesn’t take long to engulf them, bodies worn from the day’s extensive occurrences. They all grant one another sweet dreams but talking ceases being replaced by slow breathing and closed eyelids. That morning, Arthur’s wound practically cured, both his and Merlin’s horses are prepared for takeoff with Hunith badgering her son to stay safe, keep strong, and above all else, make sure nobody else discovers his secret. Their squabbling about the subject has Arthur’s ears throbbing but he was, naturally, in agreement with Hunith on the subject. “She’s right Merlin, if my father or anyone else of any social standing finds out about your powers, they would have you hung or brought to court. Which comes to my first term,” eyebrows narrowing, voice thickening, and eyes thieving straight into Merlin’s, he announces, “you are not to use your magic unless the situation calls for it and it better be a damn life-threatening one too. If I find out you’ve broken this rule…” the threat goes unfinished but the mage understands the hidden meaning.</p>
<p>	Arthur’s demeanor holds no space for an otherwise opinion, but Merlin still remains certain he could use magic easy enough without letting anybody else detect it. He argues that, after all, he only ever uses it for Arthur’s sake, but the king doesn’t care. Not a bit. Stating this to be his final ruling, the knight stalks away leaving the pouting mage to his scolding mother. “Enough of that now, you’re not a child anymore and you best do well to follow his demands!” He didn’t agree with the decision, felt overshadowed by the adjudication but knew there was little he could do about it. This was to be expected considering his opinions and intuitions would be questioned from this point on until loyalty proven solid.</p>
<p>	By midday, they were tracking back home horses side by side. Merlin knew it was because Arthur didn’t trust him to ride behind, felt inclined to keep an eye on him, but neither commented on the fact. Usually one of them might say something the other would be inclined to mock, however, this was not one of their daily adventures or honoring quests, it was wobbling, unmarked territory of weary and awkwardness. Merlin begins doubting his choice to come back due to their lack of conversation. He’s partly fearful the king will act with the same indifference that drove him home in the first place but wipes the idea knowing Arthur wouldn’t let that happen. Not this time around. If they have nothing to talk about, then they at least have business to discuss. “What are the other terms,” Merlin wonders, its inevitability driving the question forward.</p>
<p>	Arthur observes his surroundings seemingly heavily annoyed by the outward confrontation. Staring at the opposite direction of Merlin holding reigns of his mare with one hand, Arthur fires back, “sure you want to do this now?” There’s no response, only a determined irritated look the mage throws him the king finds refreshingly familiar. “Fine. The curfew remains. I don’t want you gallivanting around late nights or early mornings doing something I’m unaware of. If you find danger, think something is wrong, you let me know and not just the bits and pieces Merlin, all of it.” Meaning the bits and pieces Merlin’s always taken out in order to protect his identity. “I also require you take back your duty as my servant. You may be the worst in the world but anything is better than another moment with George and his insufferable jokes.” Merlin cracks a smile laughing from the image of a stuffy George following Arthur’s heels.</p>
<p>	The rules were sensible if not generous, all but the first one relating to his magic. He rarely used it for himself so there would be little change in general but there was something alluring about defying his cocky king. Something that made him want to look for trouble. However, with the position he’s in, Merlin knows it would do him well play obedient for now. “I understand,” he concurs. They ride along settling into a suitable silence less uncomfortable than earlier. Knowing of the fragile truce between him and Arthur, Merlin’s thoughts travel to the knights, Gaius, and what the king said about how they were faring. He couldn’t wait to see them.</p>
<p>	Journeying through the night uninterested in bumping into any traps, bandits, or problems, Camelot comes into view being an image of pure beauty to the reclaimed sorcerer. Arthur considers the wishful glaze glinting the mage’s form spreading from uplifted eyebrows to a tipped grin that warms the king’s cold drifting spirit. A part of Merlin becomes highly aware of his surroundings staring left to right then right to left in paranoia of being known as a traitor. The king notices it feeling a sharp sting of ache and guilt slice through his tired mind but ignores it urging their horses forward. Guards immediately shout for their former king of their current ruler’s return. Everybody coming to greet their royal highness, Gaius nearly triples his speed at the sight of his boy. The knights were concerned about Arthur from the view of their rushing Court Physician up until they saw an extra horse and its rider.</p>
<p>	Relief nearly clambers all of them knowing exactly how much easier all of their lives were going to be and follow in Gaius’s footsteps nearing the two men. Arthur’s the first to dismount greeting everyone with burly handshakes and clasping arms while Merlin is the more subtle in dislodging himself. Hugging Gaius, the two nearly suffocating each other, unshed tears gracing their eyes, they let go smiling in good faith as the knights stand next in line. “It’s about time you returned. One more day and I swear the princess was going to slaughter us,” Gwaine exclaims, pulling him in a death gripping hug. All the knights rejoice in their laughter, Arthur included despite his contempt at Gwaine’s outspokenness. A minute later finds Uther racing down the steps battling between rage, fury, and ease at his stubborn son for disappearing.</p>
<p>	The king more than happily addresses his father while the others catch up on the past few days. Soon enough, he was being ushered towards the throne room for a private meeting with his father leaving Merlin to the comforts of old friends. The two exchange a quick glance of mutual agreement breaking apart seconds later from pulls and pushes of others. </p>
<p>	Arthur rarely sees Merlin or his knights throughout the entire day knowing they were among one another chatting about. He sympathized, truly, he did, but at the moment there were more important things to discuss. Once again, Cenred was on the move willing to make his claim over Camelot. The day before, Arthur gone dealing with his idiotic manservant, Uther had received word from a loyal guard about unpleasant plans he’d come across in the woods. The man had seen two of Cenred’s soldiers spying on Camelot atop a cliff where he’d hidden unseen. They had been laughing about the overruling of King Arthur, their hopes crystal clear as to what they wished for the glorious kingdom. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue seeing how Cenred’s army, realm, and defenses were less than able to defeat that of Camelots’, but this wasn’t a normal situation. The loyal guard had heard them talk about an ancient flower meant to wield the minds of men with a single look at its petals. They were instructed to find and deliver it to their master.</p>
<p>	Uther had kept such severe information to himself until the return of his son to devise a plan that would deteriorate Cenred’s scheme while keeping it under wraps from their people. The last thing Camelot needed was an uprising. To counteract their enemy, Arthur decided it would be best he leave first light with his knights in search of the flower themselves. Not only would it ruin Cenred’s plot but strengthen their Kingdom reminding others of their unbeatable might. In a fruitless hunt across the castle grounds for his knights, Arthur’s irritation gradually rises until finally, after searching high and low, he finds them in the kitchens devoid of Cook and her maidservants sharing cups of ail in honor of Merlin.</p>
<p>	They hurrah at Arthur’s entrance jokingly jabbing at his character for allowing their friend to be put out. He wasn’t amused. “As much as I hate to burst your bubbles,” he charmingly, humorlessly hues, “there are actual obligations to uphold and if I remember correctly, none of you are off duty! Get to it!” Each scrambling, shuffling out the door, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan chuckling, Leon and Lancelot sharing conspiring glances, they leave Merlin and Arthur alone, the two suddenly feeling highly aware of the other. “You should get some rest,” Arthur mutters as he heads out, adding, “you’ll need it for our journey tomorrow. I’ll have George prepare for the trip in your stead.” Without any further explanation, he follows his men to the training fields where he intends to elucidate their sudden careless behavior.</p>
<p>	Afternoon drawing near, Merlin enters his room still trying to wrap his mind around the sudden need to travel right after their arrival in Camelot. Gaius was on a medical supply run so he was of no use for answers until his return. Luckily that would give the mage some time to himself considering his debility from all the people he’d made an effort to converse with. Castle staff, royal guards, and common citizens managed to sniff him out engrossing his time with informal greetings revolving from one topic to a complete others. Slumping on his mattress after preparing for bed, he softly closes eyes believing he’ll only take a five-minute nap.</p>
<p>	Five minutes turns into an entire night of fresh rest, warm blankets, and a suitable mattress giving Merlin the first real sleep he’s managed to attain in weeks. Gaius is the one who wakes him, hand gently rocking the boy awake. “I’m afraid it’s time for you to go, come now, there isn’t much time.” Waddling out the door leaving a groaning Merlin to his morning routine, Gaius wraps a wedge of cheese, thick slice of wheat bread, and two sausages in a silken wrap for Merlin’s breakfast on the go. Still clueless as to what exploration Arthur intends to take his men on, Merlin asks Gaius about it through the wooden door as he fumbles with socks and boot laces. “Cenred intends to attack Camelot with a powerful flower meant to control men by a simple look. He doesn’t have it yet and Arthur wants to obtain it before Cenred can. Quite ingenious if you ask me. You must be extra vigilant on your journey Merlin, especially since the king knows who you truly are.” How can a flower wield such potency? Merlin slightly ignoring the last bit of Gaius’s caution, he steps into the physician’s room ready as ever.</p>
<p>	Handing him the breakfast wrap, Gaius throws Merlin’s satchel over his shoulder full of food provisions, handy tools, and medical supplies. Even if Gaius was staying at the castle, at least he would know his boy had every essential tool needed in case of emergency. “If it’s not banishment it’s a search out in the woods. When I come back I promise I won’t leave for a long while Gaius. I’d rather stay here than risk meeting a bunch of brainless bandits any day,” Merlin jabbers as he adjusts the strap of his pack jerking a small smile. Two guards open the door a moment later intending to escort him to the traveling pack of King Arthur and his knights. Gaius and Merlin share quick goodbyes before the manservant is ushered to the courtyard where fellow companions are adjusting their saddles, swords, and armory. Grinning at his brown Morgan horse, Merlin nears the mare who nickers at sight of her rider.</p>
<p>	Rubbing black mane patting curt fur, Merlin adjusts bags attached to the saddle startling from a clasping hand on his shoulder. Turning, he grins at Gwaine who shakes him in excitement professing, “I’m glad you’re back, we all are.” Letting him go, the knight travels to his own steed as the others concur their agreements while mounting their horses. Spirits lifting by the second feeling welcomed and loved, he hops onto his mare as Arthur emerges down stoned steps. Uther is right behind him reminding the king what's expected of him, the significance of this quest, and why he cannot fail. Even when retired from the crown the old man still manages to stress Arthur whose sole wish is to ensure the kingdom’s safety.</p>
<p>	Bidding father adieu, he approaches his own mare saddled beside Merlins’. “Ah, and here I thought you’d run off somewhere. I’m impressed,” he half-heartedly jokes, minimal tension still leaking between them. Without awaiting Merlin’s snarky response, he settles the reigns spurring his men forward out of town towards the forest of Ascetir where Cenred’s soldiers had last been spotted. When Arthur inquired Gaius if he knew anything about the plant, the physician recalled a pure white flower, the Morning Glory, known for growing through even the driest of soils. Enchantresses of the old religion would use these flowers for varying spells to elixirs and found their petals perfect for brewing concoctions. It was anyone’s guess where they could be found but Arthur was as determined as ever.</p>
<p>	Four and a half hours of crossing streams, trees, and rock, they finally enter the forest of Ascetir with aching bottoms, tired horses, and jesting attitudes. While Merlin and Arthur shared few words, the knights made up for it by badgering back and forth about maidens, tournaments, ale, and money. Somehow in someway, they managed to bypass any and all ruffians that would usually be seen stalking from behind bushes or beneath ditches. It was odd but nice for a change. Trotting into a clearing, a large meadow of daffodils, tiger lilies, butterfly weeds, lupines, daisies, and other wildflowers lay bare to the beating sun.</p>
<p>	Stopping the herd of men, Arthur walks his horse in front of everybody persisting, “If we are to have any luck in finding the morning glory we’ll need to split up. Merlin will come with me and the rest of you can split however you wish. We’ll leave our horses here.” Pleasant with their arrangements, Gwaine and Percival head in one direction leaving Lancelot, Leon, and Elyan together in the opposite while Arthur and Merlin tread onwards. The meadow is enormous, colorful, and carefree as bees, grasshoppers, and birds intercept the area.</p>
<p>	Strolling side by side inspecting all they can, Arthur and Merlin contain a peaceful quiet until the king kneels down assessing a daylily. “You knew about Morgana, didn’t you?” Of all things he could’ve said, Merlin had not been expecting that. He wanted to change the subject, wanted to talk about the weather, a hunt, friends, or anything else that didn’t revolve around the deceased witch. Merlin sympathized for his king knowing how much the man lost in such little time, now including his trust for the mage. He doesn’t want to open any other wounds. Yet, as he tries dissuading their chatter to something light-hearted, Arthur grows agitated sending him a commanding glare.</p>
<p>	Giving in, Merlin kneels beside the king admitting, “I did. In fact,  I often blame myself for what she became.” Sighing, he stands rubbing dirt from knees with Arthur jolting to feet intrigued by what he’s inferring. “Her nightmares weren’t only dreams, they were visions of the future. Gaius knew from the very beginning but never said anything because he wanted to protect both her and Uther from the truth. Then of course I found out and like an idiot tried to help.” Going on about the druid camps, her disappearance, and hatred, Arthur soundlessly listens without interruption. “She had been so terrified, so scared, so confused, and I wanted to help because I understood exactly what it felt like. I had Gaius and she had nobody. Looking back now, I never would’ve done it.” Scratching his sleeve, Merlin refuses to look at Arthur in fear of the king changing his decision to end his life.</p>
<p>	Instead, a warm hand gently wraps around his forearm bringing a clenching flutter of hope through his veins. Examining him were soft, knowledgeable blue eyes mutely explaining their commiseration towards his confession. “You did what you thought was right, I only wish you would have consulted with me.” So do I, Merlin wishes to say as he follows Arthur who releases his arm along the pathless field. “The day she was… executed, a white dragon came to her rescue but something stopped it.” Halting, Arthur crosses arms watching Merlin flinch from the assuming accusation. “A voice in a foreign language. Nobody saw where it came from, but the dragon fled afterward.” He knew what Arthur wanted but couldn’t comprehend why he’d rush into these heavily loaded topics so suddenly.</p>
<p>	Nevertheless, he goes on elaborating, “my father was Balinor.” Waiting for that small, significant piece of entitlement to dig in, Merlin finishes, “I’m the last Dragonlord.” Any other day Merlin might’ve fallen on his butt laughing from the wide, mouth-gaping pointed look Arthur was currently presenting, but he held himself upright, a small chuckle escaping. Blinking a couple times, the king shakes his head clearing throat as if a bone got stuck in it. “Right, well, we should probably get back on track. That morning glory isn’t going to find itself you know.” Rushing ahead, the mage begins giggling uncontrollably only to be tackled to the ground by the slightly annoyed, amused king. They wrestle back and forth chuckling jesting insults, but in the end, Merlin is naturally defeated by brute strength.</p>
<p>	Beholding his lanky manservant, he traces every edge, structure, and feature of the boy’s face finding no difference whatsoever. Sorcerer or no sorcerer, this is still his Merlin, his best friend he’s grown to appreciate throughout the years. “A dragonlord,” the king muses, “I knew there was something different about you.” Merlin gleaming him a smile so glorious, so encouraging, Arthur holds his breath before abruptly remembering exactly where they are and what they came for. Scrambling off the mage purchasing self-composure, he lends a hand assisting his friend from the crushed daffodils and broken tiger lilies.</p>
<p>	Up from a hill, merry hoots are exclaimed as Elyan runs to the top, spots Arthur and Merlin, and promulgates, “we found it!” The two men charge across the pasture joining the other knights gandering the morning glory perched near a crowd of trees. “What are we waiting for, let’s go!” Promptly, Elyan flies first for the plant with the others behind lost in delight to notice the silver, thin lines stretched across the ground. The merest sparkle shines across one of the lines alerting Arthur this is no coincidence and fastens his pace, not for the plant, but to obstruct one of his knights. Elyan’s feet nearing the morning glory, the king lurches him out of the way as the lines snap in response, ensnaring him… and Merlin. Groaning in annoyance at not realizing how close his manservant had been to him during the chase, Arthur tries to unsheathe his sword realizing too late he’d stupidly left it in the clearing. What a blunder.</p>
<p>	In the distance, roaring voices of triumph echo through the forest increasing the knights’ efforts in freeing their king and friend. With each swipe against the net, the lines thicken in response releasing a wave of magic Merlin dreadfully recalls. “It’s no use,” he argues, “the net is made from enchanted spider silk. The only way to get out is from the sword of its commander.” Most likely being either Cenred or one of his men. Rather than heeding him any attention, as if in defiance against his supposition, the knights increase their efforts only for the net to grow thicker. </p>
<p>	Arthur calculates how close the oncoming men are by their booming shouts and finds they only have spare minutes if not minimal seconds. Turning towards his men as flexibly as possible, he barks, “enough! Merlin is right, it’s no use. Get back to Camelot and prepare the army. This was a trap from the very beginning, Cenred had no intention of using the morning glory. It was a ruse to get us here. We will be fine, I’ll make sure of it. Now go! Hurry!” Unable to fight their king, despite their wanting to, they vow to follow his commands and promise they’ll be back. Breathing a sigh of relief as the knights disappear through the forest, he barely has enough time to assess Merlin before a barbaric set of hooligans surround them wearing Cenred’s seal.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Captured</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Knocked out, wrists and ankles tied, Merlin and Arthur are roughly thrown across two horses commanded by the leaders in charge of the barbarous men. Gradon Hulks being the toughest of them all snaps, “get on then, go,” forcing the victorious group to quiet their bravos in exchange for hurrying their horses across uneven terrain. With the king sloshing over Gradon’s horse, Merlin was comatose to the second in command, Daragh Crik, who eerily observes him. While they did technically work under Cenred’s ruling, both Gradon and Daragh were drug lords who occasionally tampered in slave trading so they knew what types of bodies were and weren’t craved by buyers.</p>
<p>	Hurdling through a muddy stream, Daragh places his calloused, crinkled hand on the small of Merlin’s back to keep from falling while noting the frailness of his captive’s figure. Chuckling, a greasy grin sprawling over dirt-smudged cheeks, he remarks, “this boy’s a pretty one, bet he’d catch a pretty penny.” Grabbing Gradon’s attention, he eyes the boy’s slight legs, round butt, and slim waist, a patch of lecherous hunger etching his system the longer he stares. Indeed, his fellow comrade was correct. The servant, by slave standings, was worth at least a pound of gold if not more.</p>
<p>	Rolling the reigns increasing the group’s pace, Gradon glances ahead estimating they’ll arrive by late evening at their current speed. Taking a final glance at the lissome male, he purses lips grimacing ahead of their trail cracking, “he’s nothing more than a serving boy, the king won’t have any use for him. We’ll require he be part of our payment.” Daragh content with his commander’s final decision, they ride onward without stopping.</p>
<p>	Finally arriving, the bandits disperse leaving their directors to discuss the successful mission with Cenred in his throne room. Marching past the large wooden doors, the two rogues smugly throw both prisoners in front of their king. Daragh departing, leaving Gradon with the king, he quirks an eyebrow at the servant before walking out. A wide, terrifying smile crosses the king’s face as he regards the fallen Arthur Pendragon unconsciously tied up. “Excellent work!” Kneeling next to the glorious king, Cenred rips his head from the ground sneering with a sadistic, hair-raising laugh, “not so glorious anymore now, are you?” Releasing hair, Arthur’s head hits the ground with a harsh thump as Cenred soon takes note of the extra detainee. “Ah, and you must be his famous servant, loyal to the very end it seems. Interesting.” Squatting beside Arthur’s trusted manservant, gripping the boy’s chin turning his face back and forth, he runs fingers down the boy’s neck where a delightful shiver slithers through him at the soft porcelain skin. How delectable.</p>
<p>	Groggily coughing to gain his king’s attention, Gradon rubs his hands together haggling, “since my Lord has no need for the peasant, Daragh and I decided we would accept him as part of our payment from completing your assignment successfully. He would prove great use to us.” Standing up returning to his throne, legs sprawled and elbows on its arms, he pretends to mull the offer over while staring over the servant.</p>
<p>	Placing a hand to chin, Cenred mockingly tilts head to side voicing, “true he holds no status or power I could manipulate and doesn’t have the physical requirements to work under my swordsmanship…” silently laughing at the hopeful look glazing his inferior’s face, the king hums, “however,” standing up once more, he continues, “the boy is alluring, is he not?” Cruelly grinning at the disappointment coursing through Gradon’s down-turned eyes, pursing lips, and tensing body, he watches the ruffian bow his head.</p>
<p>	That being settled, Cenred returns to his throne directing one of the guards stationed near the entrance, “you, take that pathetic excuse of a king to the dungeons. I’ll deal with him later, and you,” pointing to the other armed guard, he finishes, “take the boy to my antechamber and send me a servant.” Doing as ordered, they scurry towards the abductees delivering them to their arranged destinations leaving Gradon and Cenred to complete their business. “You and your men have done well my friend, here, take this and be on your way.” Tossing a bag of silver coins at the hooligan’s feet, Cenred changes focus on the busty servant scurrying inside. “Karine, wonderful. Listen, I need you to prepare a bath for an important guest in my antechamber. Make sure to use rosemary oil and that he takes it. Do prepare and clean the room for me while you’re at it, won’t you?” Furiously nodding her head, trembling at the gracious smile he bestows her, she darts away, Gradon right behind satisfied from the silver pouch.</p>
<p>	Whatever blow they packed, it was quite severe for Merlin to be awakening an hour after arrival. Rather than chained inside a cold, damp cell, he’s surprised to find himself laying on a fluffy mattress surrounded by fabricated pillows and silken sheets. Groaning, propping against the headboard, he confusingly regards the fancy room filled with a sturdy table, dresser attached to round mirror, the bed he’s currently on, and a small furnace burning a cozy fire heating the entire enclosure. Massaging his wrists amazed to see them free of any ropes or shackles, he bolts for the door only to fall back, energy drained from that small second of adrenaline. This is not good.</p>
<p>	Sitting on bed’s edge, he freezes from the doorknob being unlocked, turned, and pushed forward. All tension immediately scrams at the sight of an older brunette carrying a tray of grapes, strawberries, blackberries, cheeses, meat, and hefty slices of bread. Closing the door behind her hesitantly placing the tray atop the wooden table, she meekly babbles, “his majesty will be pleased to know you have awoken. Please, follow me, we must get you cleaned up.” Locking the bedroom door, she turns toward Merlin beckoning him follow her into a smaller room where a large claw-footed bathtub stands with fresh hot water steaming inside. “You woke at the perfect time. I just finished carrying the last pale a few minutes ago.” Entirely baffled, Merlin backs into the other room uninterested in anything else other than finding Arthur and fleeing Escetir.</p>
<p>	Uneasily watching the drained lad spin towards the bedroom’s entry, she sympathizes at his restless pleas. “I’m sorry but I have to find my king. I don’t know what this is, Cenred has never been the gracious kind, but I can’t afford to waste any more time.” Preparing to use what magic he can, soft, strong hands clutch his shoulders, frightened doe eyes peering straight at him as the young lady vigorously shakes her head.</p>
<p>	Urgently steering him towards the tub, she shakily removes his jacket folding it neatly despite trembling fingers and a sweaty forehead. “Please, you mustn’t go. His Lord will have my head if you do,” near the brink of tears, she leans against him promising, “your king is in good health, I swear it. Besides, you will not get far in your current condition. Guards are stationed at every exit and entrance, it would be a miracle if you even made it past his highnesses chambers. I beg of you, do not go!” In any other situation, Merlin would’ve slighted her implores, but she was right, he was too weak and sensing no lies about Arthur, he reluctantly steps towards the bath.</p>
<p>	Sighing in relief, Karine allows him privacy to undress before collecting rags and soap for swathing his back. Uncomfortable at first from being naked in the primacy of a woman, Merlin slowly allows himself the pleasure of enjoying the steamy water as it soaks into his skin, the rosemary tinting his skin with its fragrance. Combing her fingers through his hair rinsing away dirt, dust, and grime, she lathers creamy soap into a cloth running it through every black strand atop his head. Fifteen minutes go by of her attending his filth-encompassed body replacing soiled soot with cleanly detergents. “All better my dear,” she soothes, collecting a feathery white towel. Handing it to him, she gathers his grubby clothes on the way out providing him some solitude. Although he can’t stop fretting about Arthur, Merlin has to admit the bath did do wonders.</p>
<p>	Wrapping the towel around his waist, he leans on the tub’s rim waiting for a pair of fresh clothes Karine pledged to bring, which she does a few moments later. Before she deviates for good, he hums, “I’m grateful for your kindness, it was most appreciated.” Curtsying in response, a faint hue coloring her cheeks, she closes the door softly behind her way out. Unrolling the smoothly bundled material, he intakes a sharp breath realizing his ‘clothes’ are merely a sleeveless light blue shirt made of thin lace extending to his knees and a black chiffon robe. What kind of joke is this? Piling them to the ground, he hurries into the other room digging every nook and cranny for some other piece of clothing only to find himself disappointed.</p>
<p>	His magic still rejuvenating, the mage doubts he can transform the frivolous apparel, and even if he could, either he would be discovered as a sorcerer or Karine would be blamed for giving him different clothes. Digging around the room for another ten minutes, he eventually resigns to the pathetic excuse of attire. Begrudgingly throwing the flimsy shirt on, a cold shiver runs down his body at the lace tickling his skin. The shirt was nothing more than a minuscule barrier over his body considering the fact it was completely transparent, his nipples and neither regains mostly on display. Hastening the robe on, goosebumps rise above his flesh from the lightly added textile, but at least, for the most part, it covered everything.</p>
<p>	Cheeks aflame in embarrassment, he hurdles into the bedroom intent on jumping underneath the covers until given proper clothing, but the sight of Karine’s food tray halts his tracks. Belly grumbling like an awoken bear from its hibernation, he resolutely scurries into one of the large black chairs munching whatever comes in first sight. Four minutes pass of Merlin emptying half of the tray as his stomach happily intakes the stable foods, his energy replenishes slowly but surely. Pushing from the table, hunger sated, he stands up progressing towards the door intent on escaping one way or another until stopping at a click resounding from the other side.</p>
<p>	At first he thinks it’s Karine, but the chipper idea dies into a pile of misfortune, dread, and startlement as Cenred uncannily ogles him with darkened eyes. Closing and locking the door maintaining Merlin’s eye, he jeeringly buzzes, “my, what a sight for sore eyes.” Feeling his cheeks heat up, heart vivify, and silent alarms scream to run, he backs into the table. Amused, Cenred nears the innocent, forcing Merlin to subtly maneuver himself of the cruel man’s grasp. “Oh do not fear me, I have not come to cause you harm.” Noting the vacant food tray, he plucks one of the few remaining grapes chuckling as the mage’s stance stiffens. “I take it my servant has seen to all your needs?” Sensing the warning within his voice, Merlin’s compassion for the fearing female snaps him into focus.</p>
<p>	Nodding head clutching an elbow, Merlin surveys the pitiless overlord, malice and fury overriding his fleeting panic. “She has. What do you want?” Stepping forward, heart beating past its usual pace, he watches, waits for an answer, any kind that can explain why he isn’t with Arthur or being tortured for information.</p>
<p>	Meeting in the middle, filling his gnarly presence into the mage’s space, Cenred laughs, “what do you think?” Grabbing Merlin’s wrist pulling him mere inches from the taunting king, he laughs at the sorcerer’s pitiful attempts at breaking free. Clutching raven black hair, the king harshly pulls, instantly stilling the boy’s movements as he yanks his head back. “That’s better,” he whispers, tucking his chin into the juncture of the straining neck sniffing freshly bathed skin. “Mm, delicious.” Having had enough, Merlin rears his free hand punching the man’s side harsh enough to stagger the tyrannical man. Kicking him in the stomach next, he dashes for the door already working on an opening spell until a large weight crashes into him. “You deviant shit!” Pulling the bucking, kicking male from the wooden floor throwing him to the glorious bed, he hovers, battling the willful mage.</p>
<p>	Eventually subdued like a jittery horse, Merlin heaves heavy breaths staring to the side with head cushioned over marvelous pillows. “You wish to take me.” Resolutely sighing, body limp in surrender, he frowns at the selfish ruler. “To take without consideration, you are nothing but a coward! Morgause should’ve killed you when she had the chance!” A biting sting whacks against his cheek pacifying the mage who pinches eyes together keeping unwanted tears at bay. No matter what, he will not show weakness to this man.</p>
<p>	Snapping up his chin, forcing Merlin face the repulsive monster, Cenred sneers, “watch your tongue, I have been lenient enough with your defiance, a quality I will have a pleasure in breaking apart by the way. You’re even braver than they say.” Chuckling, he mutters right next to his ear, “but how long will that courage last when your precious king is dead?” Freezing, cold fury washing his senses, a renewed force pushes Merlin into motion, eyes glowing golden as words mutter from mouth without thought. Instantly, the king swings against the wall where thick pointed vines spring around the man’s limbs.</p>
<p>	Collecting himself, shaky from facing sadistic violations, he slides off the bed hurrying towards the door only to jump in response to immense crackling snaps from the corner. Turning, a mixture of shock and horror swirl together in spirals at the sight of Cenred standing victoriously over broken vines surrounding his feet. Impossible. </p>
<p>	Before he can even shout another incantation, Cenred is already on him, hands choking airflow within the sorcerer’s throat. Clutching, wheezing for breath, he does what he can to escape but little succeeds due to lack of oxygen in his lungs. Blurring between light and dark, eyelids drooping, he knows somewhere Cenred is moving around but has few sense to see where, much less what he’s doing. The next thing he knows, scruffy, smothering material is being crammed inside his mouth tightly compressed from string wrapping around his jaw. To further still him, Cenred binds wrists and ankles using rough, itchy twine. </p>
<p>	Only then does the king’s hands let his throat go, the mage intaking as much air as possible through nostrils loathing the bundled cloth padding his mouth. Limbs brittle, body feeble, and mouth clotted, he shakily refocuses the blurriness muddling his mind only to shiver at the triumphant overlord menacingly standing over him. “Morgause may have been a wench, but she knew what foes to keep alive, one of which was me.” Pulling a minuscule gem from out a pocket, Merlin flushes even further at sight of the protective shield, a fragile piece of magic meant to ward off opposing powers, no matter how strong. “Surprised little one? For once, so am I. The reason that wretched Arthur made it to the crown is because of you, but I’ll make sure to eradicate him from your thoughts once I’m finished.” Without delay, Cenred roughly lifts Merlin from the ground over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes carrying him through the antechamber, his chamber, and a couple halls until reaching the throne room.</p>
<p>	Guards either jeer or glare lustfully at the cleansed boy along the walk, sending a bustle of jumbling nerves across his skin. Chucking him to the ground beside the throne, Cenred kneels down snapping the twine apart only to grab a set of shackles bolted to the floor replacing them before he can escape. Whimpering from the uncomfortable tightness cinching around sensitized flesh, he uselessly shifts his legs around as if a foal trying to buck a training saddle. Once again, without warning, he is hoisted from the cold floor only to be seated atop Cenred’s lap as the king places himself on the throne. Situated on the king’s right thigh, legs trapped between his, Merlin fidgets uneasily, a bright pink glow highlighting every inch of his face. </p>
<p>	Nastily laughing into the captive’s shoulder, burrowing his chin midst the mage’s neck, he taunts, “I wonder how your beloved king will react when he sees you so prettily decorated for me.” Putting the pieces together, eyes widening from Cenred’s plan, a small amount of spirit erupts resulting in squirming, bucking actions. Rolling his eyes, Cenred draws the gem from pocket once more pressing it against Merlin’s chest who instantly stills, the king sternly snapping, “behave,” then commanding to a guard outside, he spews, “bring me the prisoner.” Instantly, footsteps hurry away from the door leaving the two alone together for five minutes; Cenred brushing fingers along the boy’s body whispering filthy promises and terrifying threats.</p>
<p>	Dread, shame, and embarrassment shade Merlin’s entity as the doors open but instantly turn to fury at the bruises and open cuts covering Arthur, his shirt and pants torn in many areas. His rage does not compare, however, to that of the fallen king’s when he spots Merlin shackled and dressed in such clothing to the abominable man. “Merlin!” Clashing the two guards to the ground running straight for his beloved friend, Cenred pulls a dagger from his waist to the mage’s neck halting Arthur long enough for one of the guards to take him back under control. “Let him go Cenred, he has no business here!” Frantically fighting off the men, he’s soon enough subdued when one of them kicks the inside of his kneecap making him kneel to the ground.</p>
<p>	Lowly chuckling, hands caressing Merlin’s right leg up and down, Cenred commands his men leave them be, and as they reluctantly do so, he provokes, “Is that so? Strange, because last I recalled, this boy was born of my land!” Annoyed at what the king was getting at, Merlin bickers behind the gag he only follows one man and one man only: Arthur Pendragon. Grabbing the back of his neck harshly, Cenred happily watches the mage quiet down from slowing, lacking airflow. Murmuring into his ear, Cenred hums, “how about we give your dear king a show, shall we?” Moving hand from Merlin’s leg underneath the soft material, tears prick the mage’s eyes as dirty fingers wrap around his intimacy.</p>
<p>	In a heartbeat, Arthur breaks apart the rope binding his hands yanking Merlin from the throne, who flails to the ground, as he punches Cenred squarely in the face. Still chained to the floor, Merlin sits upright curving legs close together with tears running free watching the two warriors battle one another. “You have imprisoned Camelot’s king, defiled an important member of its court, and have brought suffering onto many, including your own people! Let us fight to the death and settle this once and for all Cenred.” Somewhere in the middle of his throat, Merlin cries a harsh no opposed to the idea of losing his best friend. He’d rather be the sacrificial sex slave to a cruel king than lose the one person who means more to him than the world.</p>
<p>	His cries are muffled, laid onto false ears, however, and as he struggles against the twined knots binding his limbs, he fearfully watches the two battle for their lives. Hit after punch after kick ignites into a sword fight as Arthur pulls one from a statued knight. The next ten minutes feel like a year as Merlin’s heart drops from every injury that befalls his true king, and then finally, finally, with one swift thrust, Arthur’s weapon slices through the man’s chest, puncturing his heart. Waiting less than a second, he dashes Merlin’s side slashing the chains apart releasing ankles from the compressing bond.</p>
<p>	Dropping the sword, falling to his knees beside the brunette, Arthur discouragingly observes the bruises lathering Merlin’s body and hesitantly touches one only to feel a sharp flinch. Abiding anger grows back making Arthur wish he could somehow revive the worthless dead man to provide a harsher, crueler death. “I’m so sorry Merlin, this is all my fault. I should’ve pushed you out of the way in that field, if I had…” Wrapping arms around the brunette pulling him to his body, Merlin curled into his king’s chest, for the first time being there, the mage relaxes.</p>
<p>	Busting doors open, all too soon peace flees from his form as two guards storm the room. Upon entry, at first sight of their dead king, they uproar in anger rushing to seek revenge only to halt as Arthur looks up protruding a single, heart-stopping glare. Standing up, lifting Merlin in bridal style, the king sternly bites, “your king died in a willing duel to the death. I have overruled this kingdom under fair laws of rulership, so do not dare take another step. It is late. We shall stay the night and leave early morning, understood?” Marching past the men, everybody gawking but Arthur himself, the pair make their way to an absent room in the west wing. Gently laying Merlin upon the mattress, he kindles a warm glowing fire with wood and char from beside the brick structure. Cutting off the makeshift gag, Arthur sinks onto the end of the bed as Merlin moves his stiff mouth around.</p>
<p>	Rubbing circulation back into his wrists, he sits up meeting his king’s concerned, angered eyes thinking of a way to relieve the anguish. “I’m fine, Arthur, believe me.” Truly, he was. Knowing that Arthur was alive and whole, it helped in vanquishing some of the fear he felt during the awful time spent with Cenred. “Thank you.” Pulling the thin material tighter around his chilling body, Merlin thinks of what could have happened should Arthur have perished. He’d been so close to losing the one he’d promised to protect. “You could have died, could have…” shuddering away the horrid images of a certain lifeless blonde, he whispers, “please, never do it again. You were free, you had the chance to escape. If it happens again, in any situation-” Stilling at coiling tightness wrapping around his throat, Merlin shrinks under the scrutiny of a frigid blizzard, the large hand wrapping a bit stronger.</p>
<p>	Hovering above him, Arthur forces their eyes connected making his point perfectly clear. “Do not finish that sentence nor tell me what to do. I am no coward. If it happens again, which it will not, I’ll kill until there is nothing left.” Releasing his friend’s neck, rising from the bed, he shouts for water and food at a confused servant outside. Returning, demeanor slightly cooled, he leans against a wall near the only present window. “If I didn’t succeed, if Cenred had won, the things he would’ve done to you…” pinching his eyebrows closely together, lips snarling in dislike, he rounds the mage glowering at the light robes encasing his lithe form. “It will not happen again, I swear it on my life Merlin. Do you understand? Tell me you understand!” Grabbing the shivering shoulders lightly shaking them, Arthur leans his forehead against Merlin’s chest listening to its wild, rhythmic heartbeat.</p>
<p>	Closing trembling arms around his king, thankful for having such a  devoted ruler on his side, Merlin promises, “I understand.” Interrupted by hesitant knocking, Arthur retrieves supplies from the nerve-wracked maiden, and on taking another gander at the hated garments dawning his beloved friend, he asks she bring a set of clothes as well. Scurrying off for his request, she leaves the boys alone once more. “What’s going to happen from here? For Essetir, the people will need a ruler, a good one.” Nodding in agreement, Arthur sits in one of the chairs beside the fireplace contemplating his plan for this unfairly treated kingdom.</p>
<p>	Feeling an idea hitting his brain through every bite of cheese and meat he takes, it finally comes together. “Camelot’s army will be preparing for an attack tomorrow, no doubt they’ll want blood thinking I’m dead. I’ll meet them at the gates tomorrow, explain Cenred’s death, and send them home except for the knights. We’ll stay here to decide a proper ruler for Essetir and see how he does. A soldier can detail what happened to my father who will care for Camelot in my absence.” Agreeable to the idea seeing little fault within its logic, Merlin proudly reflects on how mature Arthur has truly grown. Even the people will not be able to argue considering one of their own will take over, maybe an alliance might even be made through this experience.</p>
<p>	So, as intended, the next day Camelot’s army celebrates their king’s heroic victory, head for home, and leave Essetir’s fate to Arthur Pendragon. The knights, happy to stand beside their royal leader any day, question Merlin’s whereabouts later in the dining room that was earlier organized by servants glad to be rid their cruel master. Sighing,  slumping into the high chair at the end of the table, Arthur, in his head, replays the sight of Merlin dressed like a pleasure slave forcefully propped atop Cenred’s lap whimpering from being touched so callously. May the bastard burn. “He is resting, I had a sedation put in his drink this morning.” Concerned at their leader’s odd aura and for Merlin’s sake, they lean closer wondering if, perhaps, he had done something to offend the king through magic once more. Oh how wrong they were.</p>
<p>	After learning the oppressions set against the sleeping mage, they hurry to see him only to be reprimanded by Arthur insisting Merlin not be bothered. That he should regain as much rest as possible. Meanwhile, back in the room of the west wing, Merlin would have to disagree. Groggy yet awake, dressed in simple attire, he bangs on the locked door for release ignoring the pounding headache numbing his head and weak limbs screeching for another hour’s sleep. Damn Arthur! Damn him for stupid sympathy! “Let me out, I’ll not ask again!” Banging a final time, he curses at the king’s overbearing concern for his wellbeing and lays back in bed staring at the ceiling in pure boredom. He drugged me, the oaf! Closing his eyes finally giving into their heaviness, peaceful darkness takes over.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Peryton</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In their pursuit of a fitting ruler, Arthur and his knights gathered the highest esteemed men, noble or not, based on credibility, accomplishments, goals, brain, brawn, and ideologies through tests and trials of different sorts. Starting with a hundred, there were ten left by the third week. While occupied in Essetir’s survival, Arthur had Gwaine look after a stubborn Merlin who’d been ordered from wandering past the castle grounds. To say he was vexed would be an understatement. He despised every second of it. While he enjoyed Gwaine’s company, and knew the knight was doing his best to make light of the situation, it didn’t change the fact he felt like some common criminal being watched for suspicious behavior. He knew, in reality, it was Arthur trying to protect him, but for goodness gracious, Merlin was, by law, a natural citizen of Essetir! He knows these lands, has since a child!</p>
<p>	Since training the potential future leader of Essetir, Arthur isn’t seen much which further irritates the mage. “Surely you don’t agree with him keeping me here, how’s it fair to either of us? You’re just as much a knight as the rest, you should be with them! He acts as if I can’t handle myself when I’m the one who’s saved his life countlessly. I should be out there helping.” Ranting to the quietly grinning knight, Merlin crossly slams the spellbook he’d been reading no longer interested in awakening statures or forming small objects from ash and smoke. “I’m going for a walk!” Abruptly standing, mind determined, he heads for the door ignoring Gwaine’s heavy feet padding behind.</p>
<p>	Placing a hand on his shoulder entering the back gardens, the knight admits, “I know it’s frustrating but can you blame him? After what happened to you, he wants to make sure you’re safe. We all do. These men, Essetir’s soldiers, they aren’t the same as those from Camelot. Take it from a guy who’s been around these types before, hell, even was one. They’ll use whatever they can get their hands on, including us, and would’ve long ago if not for our known identities. They’re not safe to be alone around. Why do you think Arthur’s paired all of his men and staff in twos? We’re aren’t the only ones.” Merlin isn’t convinced. What does he have to fear when all he has to do is cast a simple spell? Oh, but here comes Arthur again with his stupid regulations towards using magic. Apparently he doesn’t want him outwardly casting spells because, if seen, there’s potential risk of it getting to Camelot. What a bunch of bogus.</p>
<p>	Grumbling fake acceptance, Merlin slowly glides through the garden inwardly thanking Gwaine for his silence. At least Arthur chose someone Merlin’s comfortable with, who he recognizes as a true friend. Wistfully eyeing a row of wilted rose bushes, a loud clanking snap followed by a mewling cry startles Merlin and Gwaine past the gardens into the forest. Rushing without hesitation, ignoring his friend’s panicked call, the mage follows his ears for pathetic whimpers past broken branches, dead grass, and smelly weeds. This isn’t human. Isn’t normal. A creature is hurt. An innocent creature. Calming his heart getting a grip knowing he’s close, Merlin pushes aside a row of dangling leaves, heart stopping in spite, sadness, and alarm. Splattered blood staining dirt surrounding an injured hoof snared in a foothold trap, Merlin’s heart nearly stops at the baby peryton desperately trying to set itself free. An innocent creature indeed.</p>
<p>	Perytons are a hybrid of stag and bird, and this one, this one is barely a year old, his little wings fluttering uselessly into the tree he’s curled against. Gwaine, clueless to the delicate scene, blazes into the clearing, but before he can startle the creature any more than it already is, Merlin places a hand against the knight’s chest quieting and holding him back. At first, not seeing the injured creature, he begins questioning Merlin’s sanity but stops at the tears pooling in his friend’s eyes. After following the mage’s gaze to the struggling animal, he instantly understands. “Please Gwaine, help me!” Nodding, he works on prying the metallic contraption apart while Merlin hums soft encouraging words to the fearful animal, who relaxes as much as possible. Finally ripping the sharpened device in two, Gwaine throws it far into the distance as another rippling cry escapes the youngling. “It’s okay, sh, come now, we’re going to get you all better.” Tearing cloth from sleeve wrapping it around the bloody wound, Merlin gently lifts the creature into his arms set on healing him back at the castle.</p>
<p>	Gwaine almost refutes the idea, knows Arthur isn’t going to enjoy the company of a mythical beast, but he understands Merlin’s passion for all living beings, and besides, magical or not, he’s secretly fond of animals. Carrying the crying baby to his room requesting hot water, towels, needles, thread, salves, and fresh fruits, Merlin tends to the restless peryton, and with a bit of magic, the hoof is about good as new by the time he’s down. “Is he going to be alright,” Gwaine questions from the doorway. Nodding, Merlin soothes the sleeping creature’s soft, short-haired fur wondering in rancor why hunters use foothold traps in the first place. He doesn’t enjoy hunting, but hell, even Arthur can’t stand such traps and has admitted it’s cruel and unfair to the animals on several occasions.</p>
<p>	Wiping his tear-stained cheeks, Merlin hoarsely fumes, “It’s not right Gwaine, he’s a baby. I bet he got lost and his mother’s searching for him right now. Poor thing.” Sniffling, he gathers the used materials together sending them off with a servant who politely bows his head on the way out. Not waiting for the knight to ask, Merlin confesses, “whether Arthur likes it or not, I’m going to take care of this little guy, try and find his mother somehow. He wouldn’t survive a week by himself out there, he needs us. Will you help me?” As if he had to ask. Merlin is an insane yet logical being, a calm chaotic Gwaine all but loves. Patting his friend’s shoulder promising every ounce of loyalty till the end, the knight pulls him from the ground ushering him toward a bath considering he smells like dried blood, dirt, and medical supplies. Agreeing, Merlin gets into the tub filled earlier by a couple servants, and scrubs his skin trying to rid the poor animal’s heartbreaking cries from memory.</p>
<p>	Later that evening, peryton still asleep, Merlin and Gwaine are summoned to the dining room for dinner with the others. Merlin didn’t want to go at first, wanted to keep an eye on his charge, but his friend talked him out of it promising the animal would be fine. Entering the room, the two are instantly pulled to their respective seats with Merlin sitting at Arthur’s right. “Good to see you still alive Merlin, we all worried Gwaine would’ve talked your head off,” Leon jests, the others laughing in agreement. Ignoring his retort against Gwaine being forced to babysit him all day, every day, Merlin focuses on his thick slice of brown bread, smoked chicken, and sautéed fennel. He supposes it’s nice not playing server for a change, but with Arthur on his shit list, he rather feels uncomfortable, especially since the king’s gaze has been blaring into his head for the last few minutes.</p>
<p>	While the knights chatter in their carefree way oblivious to the tension between their two friends, Arthur puts his bread down confronting, “are you alright Merlin? You’ve been staring at your food like a man on death row. Has Gwaine done something?” Hearing the warning in his king’s voice, Merlin instantly rears his head around defending the knight who’s been there for him since the beginning of this monstrous imprisonment. Is Arthur so dense as to not realize his anger is directed solely on him? How dare he point fingers at other men for his actions, but really, is Merlin surprised? Not a wee bit.</p>
<p>	Clenching fists underneath the table, Merlin sarcastically laughs, “I didn’t realize it was Gwaine’s idea to keep me under patrol every hour of the day. Must be my mistake thinking it was yours.” Matching the king’s heated stare with his own, Merlin gently rails, “I have the capabilities of assisting you, yet you refuse and I wonder if it’s because you lack trust in me. I understand if that’s the case, but I prefer you tell me so instead of pretending it’s in my best interest.” Merlin disregards the thickening waves of danger emitting from the high chair continuing, “I’d be by your side, surrounded by the knights, how is that not safer than being bordered in here with Gwaine? I’m not even on duty for medical needs, which Essetir is in desperate need of! Have I not proven myself loyal time and time again?” He wants to, no, needs to understand why Arthur won’t let him get close. They used to be inseparable, but now? Merlin truly would be the safest with Arthur, vice versa, so what’s the problem?</p>
<p>	Having had enough but not wishing to cause a scene, Arthur leans forward, tone broking no room for argument, “later Merlin. We will discuss this later tonight.” No longer hungry, riled by the push-away response, the mage announces happily to the men he is tired and intends to get some rest. Without blinking an eye, not waiting for Gwaine, Merlin dodges past the doors keeping everything in him from slamming them shut. Striding through a wide array of public halls, Merlin’s heart dismally quickens at familiar, helpless bleeps. Barreling into the castle’s entrance room, his blood runs cold spotting the baby peryton cowering with a limp before one of Essetir’s ten remaining suitors, Finnian Nuemann, his sword drawn above head ready to slash the beast’s neck.</p>
<p>	On wobbly knees, Merlin cries, “do not hurt him, stop! By King Arthur’s court, I command you stop!” Paying no mind besides a simple sneer, revealing a glint of hunger lust for the creature’s blood, in defiance to Merlin’s words, Finnian swings his weapon down but is intercepted by another before the mage can utter a single enchantment. Both surprised by the peryton’s hero, Finnian retaliates with a rueful grunt slashing to stick his weapon through the other’s chest, but his opponent is stronger and has the weaker man beat in no time.</p>
<p>	Pointing the tip of his weapon into Finnian’s chest, the warrior Merlin soon recognizes as Lot, calmly intones, “you never have been a very good listener, huh Nuemann? Choosing to ignore the boy’s order, I wonder how Camelot’s King will react to finding you deliberately disobeyed his consort’s command.” Consort? Speaking of the devil, spilling into the room, Arthur, Gwaine, Leon, Percival, Elyan, and Lancelot stare at the scene confused about what to think.</p>
<p>	Being the first to assess the situation, Arthur places hands on hips hastening, “what the bloody hell is going on in here? Merlin, are you al-” stopping at sight of the mythical beast frightfully hopping into his healer’s arms, the king meets Merlin’s defensively worried eyes backing between him and the peryton. For heaven’s sake, he’s adopted a flying deer, why is he not surprised? Groaning, the king promises, “we’ll discuss that later as well, for now, somebody tell me what just happened!” Hungry, tired, and exhausted from these past few weeks, not up for pathetic excuses, he crosses arms awaiting, the knights, besides Gwaine, still eyeing the dubious animal all believing it to be quite adorable.</p>
<p>	Merlin softly pulling the baby closer to his chest, opens his mouth to speak but Lot’s voice entertains the crowd instead. “Finnian intended to kill the beast and ignored your consort’s order. I intervened and now here we are.” Again with that word, consort. Merlin and Arthur, they don’t have that type of relationship! Uther would never allow it, and besides, he doubts the king would even consider the thought, not that Merlin cares. Arthur searching his friend for any fault in Lot’s story, the mage hastily agrees to the happenings damming the sputtering Finnian from a place upon Essetir’s throne.</p>
<p>	Dispatching Finnian from the floor, Elyan and Leon escort the man to his respective quarters to pack his stuff and prepare for the journey home. Meanwhile, dismissing the rest of the knights back to their dinner, only Merlin, Arthur, and Lot remain. Before he is also sent away, the mage hustles in front of the courageous warrior propounding, “I cannot thank you enough, should you not have come when you did…,” my secret would’ve been revealed against my king’s wishes. “I hate to think of any more harm that might’ve befallen this little one.” Grabbing a tiny leaf from his pocket, Merlin hands it to the warrior explaining, “a gift of my gratitude. It’s an elder leaf meant to ensure good health and safety. Place this under your pillow and not only will you receive the best sleep of your life, but any harm your body’s been through will heal.” It’s something Merlin’s been working on, this leaf being his first success, but due to Arthur’s being there, he keeps that tiny detail to himself.</p>
<p>	Afraid Lot isn’t going to take it after a second of silence, a small smile graces his mouth as he accepts the delicate present leaving Merlin rather proud. “I’m honored. No thanks are needed, but nonetheless, you are welcome my liege.” Bowing, he tucks the trinket beneath his belt facing the king currently stewing bitterly at Merlin’s fondness for his toughest trainee. “If it’s not too much trouble my Lord, I wish to get some rest and gratefully put your consort’s award to use.” Tartly granting him adieu, Arthur grabs the back of Merlin’s neck when Lot is out of sight dragging him the entire way to the mage’s room.</p>
<p>	Tossing him inside like a misbehaved cat, Arthur slams the door fuming, “a leaf? Of all things Merlin, and that! What is with that animal! It doesn’t belong here, where did you even find him? It’s because of him that Finnian’s leaving! Although he wasn’t going to make it, his honor has been dashed because of a mythical creature you stupidly took in! And Lot, what if he discovers you enchanted that plant with magic, huh?” Then he’ll be all the more thankful, Merlin inwardly retorts. Huddling the frightful peryton onto the bed, shakily petting its fur in an attempt to soothe, he takes Arthur’s angered words without caring for the heat behind them. Let the king rant his head off!</p>
<p>	Okay, so, sure, the king does have a little bit of a point about Finnian, but only a little! The small fault Merlin carries is that he left the peryton alone, and is positive the baby got scared when he awoke alone and went to look for him. Other than that, there is nothing to be sorry for. “What honor did Finnian have to begin with? What kind of man kills a tiny defenseless animal Arthur? Would you have done it?” Staring at his merciful king, the mage releases a few tears from the memory of seeing his peryton hurt. A small crooked smile forming from viewing the sharp, wild rage of Finnian’s actions blazing for the smallest second in Arthur’s gaze, Merlin expounds, “I know you wouldn’t, couldn’t even. Especially not to a yearling. He was caught in a foothold trap in the forest behind the back gardens and Gwaine helped me. Why are there foothold traps so close to the castle in the first place anyway?” Wrapping arms tighter around himself, body convulsing as he thinks of the baby’s head almost being decapitated, Merlin grinds, “screw Finnian’s honor! Lot deserves so much more than a simple enchanted leaf.” Furiously shaking his head along with the horrid images haunting his mind, he revels in Arthur’s calming presence now warming beside him.</p>
<p>	Warping an arm around his friend pulling his weight into his, Arthur rests his chin atop Merlin’s head regretting, “I’m sorry Merlin, I shouldn’t have yelled. Tomorrow I’ll have a group of Essetir’s men search for any more foothold traps and set in stone a couple of Camelot’s hunting restrictions. I promise Lot will also be rewarded for his bravery. I hate to admit it but he did defend your name and I should like to personally thank him for it.” Speaking of which, is this where Merlin finally figures why he’s been so restricted lately, and why he’s been addressed as consort? Releasing him, slightly inching away, Arthur tilts Merlin’s chin tenderly demanding his attention. “Since you want to care for this peryton of yours so badly, I’ll allow it, but you must promise to keep a closer eye on him.” Giddy at Arthur’s acceptance, a blinding smile overtakes his face matching the twinkles sparkling his eyes as he heartily agrees. “That’s better,” the king muses.</p>
<p>	Feeling a soft bump against his back, Arthur cranes his neck meeting innocent, playful eyes of a childish peryton drawn to the person making his savior so happy. Bullying its small body in between theirs, he lays his head onto the king’s lap lulling through another gleeful nap. “He likes you,” Merlin gladly wonders, his smile dimming by the daunting questions from earlier. Taking note, Arthur urges him speak his mind or else rid his face of its clouding expression. “It’s my destiny to stay by your side Arthur, yet you won’t let me. I want to know why. The honest truth, no lies or half-truths, pure honesty, please. Again, if it’s because you don’t trust me, I’ll understand, I just need to hear you say it.” Merlin isn’t above begging, isn’t above much if it means he doesn’t have to wonder anymore. To feel left out and abandoned.</p>
<p>	Arthur should’ve had this conversation the very first day of watching over Essetir. Should’ve been more aware of how his actions might’ve been taken. “Merlin, look at me, I trust you with my life,” he confesses, the ferocity in his words relaying total truth, and before Merlin can ask why then for the hundredth time, Arthur awkwardly rubs the back of his head. How is he going to explain this? “When, um, after I defeated Cenred and took you to this room, the people here, the rumors, well, they got the impression you and I are, you know, together? Intimately speaking. Emotionally too. That may not be the case for all consorts, but I wouldn’t take a lover exclusively for physical reasons. Look I…” Shamed at Merlin’s intently rounded saucer eyes and furious blush covering his face downward, the king tries to gather the rest of his wits for this tricky conversation. “I’ve been going along with it because it ensures your safety from the perverts flooding this place, but, unfortunately, that also means, as my consort, it's not right for you to be with me overlooking barbarous men. It wouldn’t make sense.” Which is true.</p>
<p>	Everything slowly, precariously coming together, Merlin groans into his hands for a solid minute mumbling gibberish. Finally gathering his bearings, what is left of them anyway, the mage bursts, “you couldn’t have said anything sooner? Do the knights know?” Sheepishly nodding his head yes, Merlin grabs a pillow groaning into it louder than before. Breathing heavily, he throws the plushy fabric at the prat. “No wonder you’ve been having Gwaine trail me, it’s what the people of Essetir expect. A consort is usually guarded, right? My homeland has always been more traditional. Even if I am a guy, as consort it would be a scandal for me to be seen on the training grounds with you. Either they’d think I’m being mistreated for letting your precious lover be surrounded by warriors or you’d lose their respect for allowing a consort to intervene in kingly affairs. So much makes sense now.” Talking to himself more than the mute king, Merlin resolutely states, “you should have told me. Why am I hearing it now after three weeks?” Because I didn’t want you feeling embarrassed, Arthur grimly answers in his mind.</p>
<p>	Setting his wide hand atop the sleeping creature’s head, Arthur respectfully receives the well-earned scowl burning through his brain. “As much as I wanted to, I didn’t know how, and, I suppose, I got caught up searching for a proper ruler this land deserves that it went to the back of my mind. I’m sorry Merlin, it wasn’t right to keep you in the dark.” At least he seems apologetic enough. “If you want, tomorrow I can clear things up, tell them the truth. It might attract unworthy men, but like you said, being with me and the knights, you’d be safe.” As much as that might be the case, it’s already been three weeks of everybody thinking they are lovers. If the truth comes out debunking their assumptions, they might view Arthur in a cruder light.</p>
<p>	Shaking his head, Merlin gets off the bed absentmindedly gazing his weary king and newly acquired pet. “There’s no need. I had questions that needed answers, and now I know. I thought maybe the reason you were keeping me here is because you wanted me away, that perhaps you were having second thoughts about keeping a sorcerer close. More than anything else, I’m relieved.” As if struck by lightning at the distressing confession, standing up, careful of the snoring peryton, Arthur takes Merlin by the waist pulling him in a tight embrace.</p>
<p>	Warmth spreading rapidly deep inside his gut, Merlin relishes in the brutal strength crushing him to the sturdy broad chest grounding him. Sliding fingers through softly groomed brunette strands, Arthur fondly tugs Merlin’s head upward forcing their eyes to assemble. “Never, for a moment, think I would wish you gone. You may be a sorcerer, but everything you’ve done, it further proves my father’s poor judgment of your kind. Every time I imagine what Cenred did to you, attempted to do, said to do, I can barely keep myself together. Gods Merlin, if you wanted to leave, tried to go, as wrong as it is, I wouldn’t let you, I’d find a way to keep you by my side no matter the consequences.” Good. Yes. Say it again, say you need me. Want me. Pushing aside the incessant hopes buried deeply within, Merlin loses his breath when warm lips descend his, flaring into a dance of belonging.</p>
<p>	It felt right, is right. Pure, raw, real. Oh so real. Further melting into his arms, which Merlin thought somehow impossible, he snakes his hands around Arthur’s neck mewling at buzzing adrenaline as his king’s tongue slithers tactfully into his mouth leaving no room for escape. It’s powerful, demanding, and reassuring all together leaving him breathless. Hands sliding onto Arthur’s chest, blown blue eyes examining his king, Merlin pleads, “It’ll never happen, me attempting to leave your side, it’s too unrealistic my Lord, but… if I do, if for some godforsaken reason I lose my senses, if I ever try, catch me and don’t let go. Promise me Arthur!” He needed to hear it and, frankly, feared the abrupt desire tearing him from the core. Why now? Why realize it now? What merciless trick will reality slip them through?</p>
<p>	Constricting his hold of the willing captive, Arthur agrees, “on my life, I swear it! I’ll drag you home, bind you, forbid departure, whatever need be done, I’ll do it.” Yes, yes. Please let it be so. Crumbling into his arms, energy wavering, Merlin softly clutches the king’s shirt as he is picked up then laid on the bed, the peryton at his feet. “You realize what this means, right Merlin? What I’m implying?” Only too well, the mage contentedly purrs in his mind. “I don’t understand the extent of these feelings, but I want to and I can’t without your saying so. What say you? Tell me Merlin, can you wait?” For eternity should it take that long if it means this closeness, nearness he’s but hopelessly craved for.</p>
<p>	Smiling, tugging the king on top cupping his face, Merlin questions, “are you truly a dollop head? Have you been listening to a single word I’ve said? However you choose to have me Arthur, I am yours body, mind, and soul.” Kissing him once more, not wishing to stray from the mage’s side, the king decides, from here on out, these chambers shall be theirs until the upcoming departure for Camelot. Pleased by the notion, Merlin nestles underneath the covers yelping when two muscular limbs jerk him directly against Arthur’s heated body. So warm.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Horizon's Threat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next two weeks pass on as usual with the only difference being shown through secretive smiles, soft touches, and afternoon strolls pledged by Arthur. As expected, Lot rightfully earns title as King of Essetir who aces every one of the knight’s challenges with passing colors. A celebratory feast was held the night of his crowning where several citizens were able to attend. Naturally there were doubters, rebels, and foes disguised behind classy clothes and proper language, but Lot is no fool and will do wonders for the kingdom. Merlin rooted for him the entire time. Fortis, the peryton Merlin nursed, grew into adulthood by the second week of being cared for and loves the attention given by Merlin, the knights, and even Lot who Fortis mostly listens to when it comes to obedience.</p>
<p>	Mission complete, it was time to head home, and as happy as Merlin was to finally return, he would dearly miss his precious Fortis whom King Lot promised to watch over. Horses packed, everybody having said their goodbyes, the knights straddle their stallions and mares while Arthur, Merlin, Fortis, and Lot stand on the castle’s staircase giving their last farewells. “When the treaty is written, I will gladly travel to Camelot so we can finally unite these lands together. In the meantime, it is a verbal agreement. Thank you both for all that you’ve done and know these doors are always open should you wish to visit,” Lot informs, resulting in clapping shoulders and bittersweet jests.</p>
<p>	Merlin leaning his forehead against Fortis’, tears brimming his eyes, he lilts, “behave yourself dear friend, you hear? I’m going to miss you so much, but I promise to visit as soon as possible.” Arthur’s heart panging watching salty drops slide down his mage’s cheeks, the king bitterly thinks to himself if not for Camelot’s ban of magic, Fortis could come along. Kissing his muzzle, grudgingly releasing the nickering creature trying to block his savior’s path, Merlin soundlessly thanks Lot who places a soothing hand on the beast’s furry neck allowing Merlin to follow his king’s lead. The tears don’t stop as Fortis’s cries grow recklessly louder following the group until after two miles, there is nothing but a faint whisper.</p>
<p>	The travel home blurs together in a mass of three days and two nights with occasional bandits, playful insults, and pranks of goodwill to cheer Merlin who was still gloomy from his and Fortis’s departure. The familiar kingdom settling into view, knights urging their horses onward, Camelot’s citizens hurrah creating an exciting thrill across the area. Uther already shuffling down the stairs greeting his boy, father and son hug while the others are left to their own devices of unpacking and greeting their own loved ones. Jumpy to see Gaius, Merlin suddenly latches onto the joy of being home, being here, knowing every kind face and stone of the castle. Darting to the court physician’s room barging through the door, Merlin hooks his arms around a just as excited Gaius shocked by the boy’s appearance not having heard the commotion outside. </p>
<p>	He’d been so distressed, so anxious in not hearing from him even after learning about Arthur’s victory against Cenred. He’d known something happened to his brave boy, felt the gnawing intuition he’s learned to trust after so many years of working in the medical field. “Merlin, my precious boy!” Tears forming in their eyes, Gaius spaces them a little without removing his hands from Merlin’s forearms. “You have no idea how worried I’ve been.” Placing a hand on his face checking for wounds out of habit, the older man guides him to their table ready to learn as much as he can pry from the lad. “I know something happened Merlin, the day you and Arthur were kidnapped I discerned an upsetting signal but couldn’t tell where until I realized it was my own instinct. Tell me what it was.” How can I? Biting his lip, Merlin stares at the wooden table willing his mind for an explainable lie, a white lie, something to convince Gaius without concerning the physician too much.</p>
<p>	About to fault the instinct on the falsehood of a small stab taken to his knee, Merlin’s too late when Arthur hollers at the door, “It was Cenred. He dressed Merlin like a slave and took certain advances against him. Luckily they didn’t get far.” Shuddering at the unhidden threat lacing the king’s words, Merlin bunkers his head as Gaius pieces the clues together grieved at the incidents his dear boy endured. “I’m sure he can catch you up on the rest since he’s relieved of his duties for today. That’s all I came to say, oh, and I’ll see you tonight Merlin.” Tonight? Wait, is Arthur expecting he sleep in his chambers from now on? Ridiculous! The only reason they got away with it in Essetir is because they were seen as king and consort. Here, to the public, they are master and servant. Nothing more, nothing less.</p>
<p>	Focusing past the growing worries, Merlin entangles Gaius in a two hours worth chit-chat detailing Fortis, Lot, and yes, even the consort bit while excluding the private moment he and Arthur actually shared. “He’s beautiful Gaius. I never realized how fast perytons could grow until I woke up and found him resting across the entire end of my bed.” Laughing at the memory, Merlin thinks about how much fun he’d had these past few days. “He’d love you. Fortis has a thing for soft-hearted fools.” Huffing a chuckle, Gaius stands ruffling Merlin’s hair proposing they go on a hunt for some herbs, which the sorcerer gladly accepts.</p>
<p>	Later that night, Merlin approaches Arthur’s door repeating his speech over and over again of all the reasons why he can’t share the king’s chambers. It has to be done, he spitefully tells himself. Knocking then entering after Arthur’s permission, Merlin finds the blonde sitting on the right chair in front of a blazing fire. “Lock the door and come here Merlin, did you and Gaius have a nice time?” No thanks to you Sire.</p>
<p>	Securing the latched doors, Merlin pads toward the left chair only to be caught by the wrist and thrown onto his king’s lap. “Really? Have you no manners at all?” Readjusting himself sitting sideways in a more comfortable position on his Lord’s lap, Merlin ignores the raging blush adorning his porcelain skin. “Why did you tell Gaius what Cenred did? I didn’t want him to know Arthur, he worries enough as is.” Leaning his head against his king’s shoulder, they watch the burning wood crackle underneath scorching flames basking in its warmth warding the outside’s cool air.</p>
<p>	Taking a sip of ale from his cup on the nearby table, without looking at him, Arthur answers, “he knows when you lie Merlin and would’ve stressed even further if you didn’t tell him the truth. Besides, you’ve kept enough secrets to last a lifetime. It’s time you started relying on others.” If only it were that easy. “I’m guessing by your attire from today’s activities and not your sleepwear you intended on returning to your old bedroom?” Still intend, and current bedroom, not old because he’s not done using it. In fact, after heading back to Gaius, he plans to put his bedroom to good use. “Do you never learn? My father is no longer king, the servants practically love you, and my guards couldn’t care less who I bring to bed.” Meeting his stare addressing him with his regal tone, Arthur insists, “I’m sorry to disappoint but you will not be going anywhere else from here. There is a bath ready for you with a towel and an extra change of sleepwear beside it. Go on.” This cannot be happening. </p>
<p>	Urging him towards the heated water, Arthur crosses a leg over the other in his seat humored by the humble servant’s modest undressing. Splashing into the tub swiftly, Merlin cleanses his burning body, not from the liquid, but from the blonde’s perceptive stare digging into his bare back. “If I could get a moment of privacy my Lord, or are you too much of a prat to provide some decency.” Chuckling at the outspokenness, Merlin’s request is slightly answered with Arthur peeking from time to time instead of blatantly staring which somehow makes it worse. Hurriedly grabbing the towel, drying himself, and changing into a long white nightshirt, Merlin startles at strong hands cradling his hips from behind dragging toward the comfortable bed. “I cannot stay, you must realize that! Whether your father is king or not, whether I’m liked by the servants, and even if your guards don’t care, rumors will start, and what of your repute?” I’m on my last leg here.</p>
<p>	Tossed onto the bed, squirming cautiously observing for a way out, he shivers when those heated hands return to his body slithering up and down his sides. “Since when did you care about rumors? Let whoever wishes to speak do so, it’s no concern of mine. We both know you belong here, so enough of your prattling.” Curse this stubborn mule-headed man! Pursing his lips displeased by Arthur’s carelessness, his pout is quickly diminished by the king’s mouth. Defiantly turning his head, Merlin’s lips are further pushed apart as Arthur grabs both sides of his face forcing him to partake in complete and utter pleasure. Tugging his bottom lip then sucking and licking both of them, Arthur takes everything he can, everything there is, from Merlin. Releasing him to keep from going any farther, the king drives them underneath the covers for a goodnight’s rest. “One day I’m going to take you completely, and when I do, you’ll barely be able to walk, much less argue with that devilish mouth of yours.” Shivers tingling down his spine still trying to catch his breath, Merlin begrudgingly thinks of how true Arthur’s words will ring when the time comes.</p>
<p>	Sun rays beaming between a small slip in the curtains, Merlin’s eyelids flutter open only to find Arthur missing. Jolting upward panicking at the time bashing himself for sleeping in, he rustles from beneath the cozy sheets, feet stinging cold at the floor’s temperature change, and searches for yesterday’s clothes which have disappeared as well. At that moment, the doors crack open showcasing a smiling, arrogant prat who eyes his servant up and down uselessly trying to conceal several chuckles. “In a hurry, are you?” I’m going to kill him. Revive him… and kill him again. Catching a pile of clothing Arthur throws his way, he finds them to be fresh garments from his room. Based on the unamused expression, knowing that usual look of impatience, without needing to be asked Arthur explains, “I retrieved them from your room while Gaius checked on a patient. Simple as that.” It sounds so easy coming from him, but what if a maid or guard had witnessed the action? What if it got back to Uther? </p>
<p>	So many what-ifs and yet Arthur sits at his desk eating away when… eating? Food? Where did it all come from because it certainly wasn’t him. Slipping into his clothes behind the border, Merlin casually hums, “so your breakfast, surely I’m supposed to believe you retrieved it yourself from the kitchens?” Hearing the king slightly choke and chug it down with a cup of milk, once properly changed, Merlin stands in front of Arthur’s desk. “Well?” This isn’t how he wanted their morning to start, and based on the guiltiness edging Arthur’s brows,<br/>Merlin knows this isn’t going to end on a happy note either.</p>
<p>	Leaning into his chair, confidence squishing all signs of guilt, Arthur crosses arms admitting, “George delivered it upon my request.” George. The boring one who jokes about brass? That George? The proper and formal one who’d make him re-polish a boot every time he missed a step or spot? “You’ve got to be kidding me. I was in your bed this morning and you asked he bring breakfast? What happens if he talks to others and they start asking questions? What am I supposed to say? Do you want to be scandalized by your people? Are you doing this on purpose?” They’re all fair concerns Merlin’s brought up, which is why he doesn’t understand Arthur’s reasoning in startling him by abruptly standing, hands harshly sprawling against the desk.</p>
<p>	Leering forward, he growls, “you speak against my people’s loyalty! Rumors, gossip, whatever it may be, we both know Camelot’s citizens are not so dense as to objectify their king because he favors a servant. This isn’t about me, is it? Why do you fear others learning my affection towards you?” Oh no, he is not pulling that crap on him! Not today! If Arthur thinks he’s got the upper hand in this, he’s wrong! Merlin can bend a dragon to his will for crying out loud, but why, why is that soul-searching look Arthur’s gazing right into his core keeping him speechless?</p>
<p>	Fighting his fleeing instincts as Arthur circles the desk, Merlin clasps his hands tightly together behind his back. “Seeing how you’re a clot pole, it makes sense you can’t rationally understand the consequences that’ll come with us being discovered. Forgive me for trying to protect-” Losing his voice as his king’s stare threateningly sharpens, Merlin practically hears the blonde in his head demand he stop lying and tell the truth. “Its-its not like we can ever be anything, at least to the public. Eventually you’ll marry, Arthur, and it won’t be me which is fine. I know my place. No matter what, I’ll stay by your side, but how long can we keep this up?” He should really shut his mouth right about now. By the looks of it, Merlin will be lucky if he manages to witness the morrow’s sun.</p>
<p>	Painfully gripping his forearm stalking him towards the nearest wall, Arthur keeps his voice steady. “Since when has anybody mentioned marriage? I’m king Merlin, I’ll not be forced to wed against my wishes, nor will you be cast aside. The future is ours if we want it, and I know we do, but you need to trust me and stop fussing!” In reality, Arthur’s not angry. Amused, maybe a little peevish, but not angry. He understands where the mage is coming from, brewed about the what-ifs way before in Essetir. Though, during that time, he’d found a solution, one he knows is definitely going to fluster his already anxious friend, which is why he’s not worried in the least. About to comment, Merlin pushes Arthur away at Leon’s sudden intrusion.</p>
<p>	Reading oblivious to the scene he’d saw a second of between his fellow friends, Leon informs, “we have a visitor from the kingdom of Anglia, calls himself Barric Knapp. He wishes to speak with you but wouldn’t say what about, only that it’s of great importance.” Breathing a little easier knowing their conversation has been cut short, Merlin rubs his arm from the place Arthur’d grabbed it and dashes past Leon towards the door. </p>
<p>	Before he’s fully escaped, Merlin stops for a single moment as Arthur hollers, “we will continue our discussion later tonight, I expect you be here.” Without so much as a goodbye, the mage hurries off, blotches of pinks and reds painting his face, dreading the afternoon hours while shaking away embarrassment from Leon having heard. Stupid prat, he did that on purpose! He could’ve said nothing at all and summoned him later, but no, he just had to outright- argh! It wouldn’t take a scientist to figure out his meaning, and so now Leon must know. Probably has for a while to be honest, including the other knights. If it has to be anyone, Merlin supposes he’d rather it be them than nameless strangers.</p>
<p>	Storming into the court physician’s room, he immediately regrets being so forceful when Gaius, and the woman with a bloody arm he’s treating, faintly jump. “What’s this about then? Are you alright my boy?” Apologizing to them both, he rushes into his room rummaging through books for some sort of distraction from the adrenaline rush swaying through every bodily vein. Why is it that he finds Arthur annoying to the last hair on his head every time he pushes him around, yet at the same time finds him incredibly powerful and admirable? It doesn’t make any sense! He knows Arthur was comforting him, trying to in his own way, but at what cost can the king allow this small piece of heaven to continue? Of course, Arthur’s right, he does want this. Feels at home when they’re together. Knows they’re better side by side than alone. Ugh, what a nightmare.</p>
<p>	After thirty loathsome minutes, slamming the book on his lap closed, he inquires Gaius if he needs any herbs from the market and perks at the list given by the old man. Slipping the satchel over his shoulder, he heads out wearing a light hue on his cheeks from Gaius’s patient giggling, “a lover’s quarrel perhaps?” Cooling his head, ticking the items off one after another, in the afternoon he bumps into Gwen and the two happily chat in the courtyard, when, all of a sudden Gwaine and Percival rush towards them. What on earth? Why are they in such a hurry? Did a maid run off before Gwaine could bed her Merlin laughs to himself. However, the humor quickly dies when the knights grab each an arm, Gwen dropping her basket to stop them and Merlin feeling dizzy from their mighty grasps.</p>
<p>	Demanding to know what this is about, Gwen unsheathes Percival’s sword sliding it to his chin conflicted as to what’s going on. Thankful for his saving grace, but not wanting her to get hurt, Merlin tells her to put it away and repeats her question. “We have to get you to Arthur’s chambers. He’ll explain when we get there. Gwen, trust us. We’re not going to hurt him, you know I’d die before letting harm come to him.” Then why are you crushing my bones?</p>
<p>	Grunting at the soreness starting to soak through his sleeves, Merlin grinds, “if that’s the case, would you mind letting up on your grips? I feel like both of my arms are going to snap at any moment.” Instantly loosening their clenched hands, they apologize marching him off to Arthur while Gwen stares dumbly trying to figure the reason for kidnapping own of their own. Guards opening the doors for them, they gently release the mage, and after Gwaine encouragingly pats his back, the two knights disappear. </p>
<p>	Swearing if this is a rouse, Merlin bundles his hands into fists complaining, “alright Arthur, if this is you trying to make a poi-Gaius?” Spinning from the closed doors to face the king behind, he stumbles a little at finding his father-figure standing beside an unusually solemn Arthur Pendragon. “What is this? What’s going on? Gwen nearly cut Percival’s throat with his own sword because of you!” Seeing but a light, hollow lift of his lips into a pathetic, tiny smile lasting point five seconds, Merlin begins fearing the worst before clicking things together. “The visitor, what’s his name? Barric something? This, whatever this is, it's because of him right? Tell me, what is it?” Angry, happy, sad, and even an obnoxious Arthur he can handle, but a silent one? Nearly impossible.</p>
<p>	As if waking from a coma for the first time in weeks, Arthur’s eyes flash at the visitor’s name proving Merlin’s theory correct. The question is, who is this man and what’s he want? Striding toward Merlin, Arthur presents his hand urging, “I’ll tell you, but first, take my hand.” Okay… this is getting awkward. How come Gaius isn’t saying anything? “Come on Merlin, don’t be a girl. You afraid I’m going to burn your fingers off? Do it, I’ll not ask again.” Fine you pushy prick, geez. Placing his smaller hand in the mass of Arthur’s, the king instantly curls his fingers around it as if catching a valuable butterfly. </p>
<p>	Gaius retrieving a tiny pocketbook from behind him on the bed, he opens the pages reading an unfamiliar enchantment, and with Merlin getting antsier by the second, repeats the foreign words over and over. Feeling an overwhelming temperature change spurn from hot to cold burn from within his flesh, there’s dozens of tingles, as if tiny ghostly vines, intertwining with the threads of his magic binding together as he violently shivers. Trying to tear his hand from Arthurs’, the king holds fast, eyes a stormily guilty blue slightly watering in the corners.</p>
<p>	At the last word, Gaius instantly shuts the book and all pain ceases,  leaving his body completely normal besides the occasional tingle. Finally letting his hand go, Arthur leans against the left bedpost watching Merlin shortly recuperate from the damming spell. The king’ll be lucky if the mage forgives him in a decade for what he’s just done. “Tell me now! I have a right to know what I unknowingly agreed to!” He would’ve also appreciated a warning, but no, they think just because he’s Merlin, he’ll go along with whatever scheme they’ve got up their sleeves! He can scarcely believe Gaius is a part of it.</p>
<p>	Sighing, knowing he can’t stall all day, Arthur shuffles from the bed towards his desk half-sitting half-standing on it. “Barric Knapp is a witchfinder, only instead of a fake like Aredian, he’s real. Apparently he heard about a group of magic-users heading here and came in pursuit of them, wanted me to provide accommodations for his work even though I didn’t want nor ask for his help!” Anger from the meeting rising up as if a raging dragon about to burn an entire village, Arthur slides his hand through hair. “However, because my father was there, I couldn’t deny the man’s talents. He detailed so many stories Merlin, so many tales of how he brutalized and hunted… never mind all that. I came to Gaius for help. Knowing you, you’d probably run straight into Barric, so…” Not wanting to say it, not wanting to confess what he’s done, he lets the court physician take over.</p>
<p>	Merlin, slowly but surely piecing what he can together, dodges Gaius’s hand from reaching his shoulder and stares into the older man’s honest, regret-less eyes. “It’s not permanent my boy, only temporary. It’s a spell of the old ways ancients used to contain magic users, no matter how powerful. Whoever’s hand the sorcerer holds, they become, in a sense, their captor. In this case, Arthur is that person. For now, you will not be able to leave these rooms, even if the doors are wide open it will be impossible.” As if punched in the gut, sickened by their idea of safety, Merlin backs away refusing the idea, blinking repeatedly trying to wake up as if this were a nightmare. He’s being locked up like a beast… a-a monster, and for what? To keep some foreigner from discovering his existence?</p>
<p>	Backing into the double doors, staring at their guilt-leaden, downcast expressions, his hands grab the handles trying profusely to open, even crack, a door but to no avail. So it's true. “How cruel you’d do this without me knowing. Treating me like a prisoner! Why not throw me in the dungeons instead? I’ll gladly stay there rather than be treated like some stupid beast! Go on, remove the spell and take me down there, at least I won’t have to look at either of you for another moment!” Couldn’t they have talked to him first? Explain the problem they were facing? He could’ve come up with a better solution than this surely. “How do you expect to hide me from a witchfinder when you’re practically keeping me imprisoned by magic itself!” Tugging uselessly another two times at the door, he watches Gaius try collect his words but fails behind a veil of unhidden tears begging to run free. </p>
<p>	A pang of remorse softens his resolve, but ultimately refuses to look at the older man as Arthur noiselessly nods his head for Gaius to leave with honest blue eyes promising to care for Merlin. Gaius agreeing it would be best for him to go, Merlin slides from the middle of the doors to the right, and as the older man opens the left, he whispers, “I looked for anything else, I truly did, but this was our best option that wouldn’t cause too much harm. Rest, my boy.” Slipping away after that, deadly silence adds to the awkward tension between the two remaining males. Great. Exactly what he wants. Alone time with the king who’s damned him to a punishment worse than death.</p>
<p>	Stepping forward keeping calculating calm despite the screaming alarms in his system demanding he beg Merlin’s forgiveness, Arthur stops a foot away. “Even if I put you in the dungeons, which would never happen, Barric would find you. This spell, it ensures confidentiality emitting false signals towards threats against unknown enemies. Look at me Merlin, please,” he nearly whispers at the end, but as his hand lifts toward the mage’s chin, it’s slapped away by the cornered male. Their eyes meeting, fierce betrayed blue vs. shocked, irritated cobalt hues, time stands still until Arthur finally caves. “Very well then, I can’t say I don’t blame you. Be mad, thrash, yell, and scream as much as you like, but understand this. You will not leave until Barric is gone, he’s dangerous Merlin. I’d rather face your rage until my dying days than see you debauched by his sadistic tactics! I vow things will not always be like this, but for now there is little I can do.” Willing for some sort of give from his friend, something, even a hit against the shoulder, a punch to the face, nothing happens. Not even a sound. “I’ll be back later, I need to attend another meeting.” Exiting despite wishing to stay by the mage’s side, Arthur refutes knowing Merlin desires his space.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Caged Bird Sings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once the king’s completely gone, slumping against the barricading platform sliding to the floor, he pulls his knees against his chest soothing furious nerves. There’s got to be a crack, a loophole of some kind. Anything. Even though he’s trapped, he still has access to his magic which might just be his saving grace. Pulling himself together, he walks around the room echoing memorized spells unlocking everything in the room beside the doors and windows. Fire treacherously roaring in response to his increasing ferocity from every failed attempt, growing weaker with every passing hour, eventually he collapses onto a window seat. Scorch marks slowly dissipating from the room, broken glasses piecing together, and torn fabrics sewing in place, it would seem as if he hadn’t spent the last three hours conjuring the lowest to mightiest charms. He will not give up! There’s gotta be something, anything, he can do.</p>
<p>	Manually taxing the windows, battling the rustic latches, he falls backward when a pane finally opens allowing cool air to simmer his heated, sweaty skin. Reaching his hand toward freedom, the last remaining spark of hope dies at the border stopping his palm from going any further. “Merlin?” Sluggishly closing the window, barely acknowledging the king’s entrance, he maneuvers to the window seat refusing to meet the solicitous gaze following his every move. “Servants should arrive soon with our dinner and tub, you’ve started a fire, join me by it?” How convenient this is for Arthur. Not only does he have Merlin confined from helping, but also, his fellow peers will discover… no they won’t! He’ll hide behind the dressing screen when they come. Nobody will hear him utter a single sound. Rejecting Arthur’s offer keeping his head turned toward the window and body curled on itself, he hears the king sigh resting in a chair.</p>
<p>	When various bunching feet near the double doors, before Arthur can object, Merlin darts behind the dressing screen crouching down as a couple of servants present platters of fresh fruits, smoked fish, and freshly baked bread on the table while others set down the water-filled iron tub. Bowing their dismissal after a short time later, they disappear allowing Merlin to take deeper breaths than the ones he held while they rummaged about the room. Walking towards the screen, Arthur crosses his arms mirthlessly beholding his friend rising from the ground. “What? If you can hold me against my will, then I should be able to shroud from them, besides, wouldn’t want my name getting back to the oh so horrendous Barric, would we?” Sidestepping the king without anything else to say, he instantly yanks his arm when Arthur attempts to catch it, but the minimal dodge backfires when he’s snatched by the neck and pulled face to face with formal, solemn grace.</p>
<p>	Other hand slipping over his waist firmly keeping him in place, using his grip on Merlin’s neck forcing the mage’s spiteful sulk to his poised focus, Arthur discloses, coolly, yet sternly, “do you honestly believe I enjoy this situation? That I don’t hate it as well? I’ve had to go an entire afternoon without your snarky commentary, agitated looks, and clumsy self. It’s been hell! It's as if you were gone all over again. Three days, that’s how long Barric’s strenuous welcome extends, after that, the bastard’s gone.” Three days? Alright… okay, that, Merlin supposes he can handle that. Maybe not the entire time, it’ll be stretching his limit, but it could be worse. However, he’s still mad. Incredibly so.</p>
<p>	Testing Arthur’s hold, he airily squirms against him huffing at being further constrained. “Let me go Arthur, none of this changes the fact you didn’t discuss this idiotic plan of yours with me! What if you get hurt from a situation I could’ve prevented?” Settled rage flaring, Merlin prattles, “what if another sort of magic hunter comes here, will this be your solution? Housing me like a monster while they get to roam free?” He knows Arthur’s true at heart, would never, ever, hurt him on purpose, but those logicalities do nothing but ring in the deepest part of his mind. The king, snaring his captive without much effort, chews his inside cheek at the accusing assumption because against his better judgment, there’s truth to Merlin’s words. Not a lot, but some. Until he can handle the magical ban, for now the laws are set in place and will need a while to reverse.</p>
<p>	However, there is a part in his friend’s vocabulary that he should demand never be repeated again. “A monster? Is that how you see it? Rid the notion Merlin, for that is the opposite of what you are. No, I keep you in here, not as a threat to Camelot, but as mine. Do you know what I’d do to Barric if he ever raised a hand against you?” Taken aback by the confession, Merlin bites his tongue from something he’ll regret saying and impatiently listens. “I’d torture him in every way he’s done to others until begging for death, which would not be granted for several years. I told you the day you agreed to return with me there would be terms and conditions you’d be obliged to follow, and right now is one of the moments where you obey. Now, we are going to eat, take a bath, and get some rest.” He’d had him in the first part, Merlin won’t deny, but as soon as Arthur went back to being bossy britches, well, two can play that game!</p>
<p>	Sitting at the other end of the table far from Arthur’s reach, Merlin eats very little, hunger subsided, and takes his bath in a span of two minutes after Arthur. The bed was the hardest part, because he loves it, feels safe, in the blonde’s arms at night. Until he’s released from this golden cage however, Merlin refuses to so much as touch the king thus clutching the right side as much as possible from his Lord. Arthur, ire grown since dinner, decidedly snakes an arm around the mage’s stomach squishing him against his belly. “No, let me go!” Kicking, clawing, punching, and screaming, Merlin doesn’t give until maneuvered onto his stomach where Arthur hovers above threatening if he doesn’t calm, he’ll keep him in their room for an entire week. It’s an empty threat on Arthur’s part, but Merlin, not wishing to risk the chance, stills. That night, Merlin lays tensely in the king’s arms fighting his body’s need for rest while Arthur snores away his lungs. </p>
<p>	Two days passing by, nothing brightens nor improves between king and servant. Rather, Merlin chooses to barely speak a word in Arthur’s presence against the Lord’s efforts. Despite the sorcerer’s entrapment, while he can’t visit his friends, they take several efforts to visit him. Lancelot and Gwen brought him a vase of wildflowers and a bowl filled to the brim containing his favorite wild berries while Elyan and Percival snuck him a few spellbooks, and Leon, bless him, kept Merlin up to date about Barric, new trainees, problems the kingdom was facing, and Arthur’s wellbeing. The king, uninformed about how detailed Leon spoke to Merlin, tried his best to convey Camelot’s going ons himself but was regularly annoyed, which he found puzzling considering he knows how much Merlin loves Camelot. If only he’d known Leon beat him to it. Gwaine, without presents or comfort, instead gifted humorous stories and laughter to the inquisitive mage.</p>
<p>	Currently, the two are sitting at the table with Gwaine practically drunk from the tavern he’d left before traveling here retelling one of his newest adventures. “Then she slapped me, can you believe it? A knight of Camelot! I’d only been messing around too, nothing serious. Ah, people need to take a joke more often, what’s life without them?” Rolling his eyes sobering his friend with a cup of water, Merlin hits his shoulder earning a shocked, wilting pout from the outgoing male. “What was that for? Are you going to slap me too, and here I thought you were such a good friend, a mistake indeed.” Laughing at Gwaine’s dramatics, he wonders if the knight ever thought about going into entertainment. He’d make a wonderful storyteller if not an actor.</p>
<p>	Pouring him another glass of water, Merlin jests, “knowing you, I guarantee you were more than messing around with the poor girl. I’m with her on this one, you are an utter ass when it comes to making your so-called jokes.” Gratefully accepting the second cup of cold water, head clearing a smudge bit, Gwaine gasps at the half-truth accusation pointed his way. </p>
<p>	Side by side, the knight defends, “while I won’t deny your ruthless  claims, I will also say she enjoyed it more than letting on, most do.” Giggling turning to hysterics, the room fills with their merriment, Merlin asking, between deep breathes, if Gwaine has lost his mind. Trying to reach for a cheese cube on a platter past the mage, leaning forward losing balance, he falls onto the floor bringing Merlin down with him who’s strength is minimal compared to the knights’. Gwaine atop the mage, they stare at each other for several seconds until laughing even further, Merlin wrapping arms around his stomach from happy cramps.</p>
<p>	Unbeknownst to them, Arthur, wanting to surprise Merlin with exciting news, retired earlier than usual. Opening the chamber doors faltering by the glorious sound of Merlin’s joy, a pleasure he’s missed hearing, he closes the door nearing the sounds, but his cheer disappears like fog in thin air at the two males jiggling on the ground. “Something funny, is there?” Boys choking their bliss at the bone-chilling, authoritative tone above them, Gwaine instantly nudges off the ground swaying back and forth. Charming, one of his best knights is once again drunk. “I thought I told you from visiting the tavern for a while! We have- ugh, never mind, for now, go to Gaius before I throw you in the dungeons for insubordination.” Complying to his king’s command, Gwaine assists Merlin from the ground, pats Arthur on the back who stares him down, and exits with a petty bow.</p>
<p>	Grimacing the young warlock, something inside him snaps like stretched twine or a sword after a fatal blow. Hauling Merlin to the bed by a wrist, disregarding his useless struggling, Arthur hovers on top pinning the mage’s legs with his own and presses his hands firmly around his captive’s wrists. “Is your only reflex manhandling or am I just lucky? It’s a miracle you haven’t busted one of my bones yet!” It really isn’t though. Unlike most knights, Arthur’s hyperaware of his strength and knows exactly how much he needs during differing situations.</p>
<p>	Narrowing eyes willing the man below to shut up, Arthur watches the sorcerer try shrinking underneath his scrutinizing peer, leaving a satisfying warmth clench his gut. “You ignore me despite my efforts yet jest with my knights who agreed you being here was the safest option. My patience has run out, Merlin. I know what I must do, and apologize for not having done so sooner.” With that, Arthur clashes his mouth against Merlins’ tearing his clothes to shreds from scarf to pants leaving nothing concealed from his view. Hands scrambling, pitifully pushing against the solid broad chest above him, lips, tongue, and teeth imprisoned, Merlin’s objectifying whimpers are consumed by plump, greedy lips.</p>
<p>	Body trembling under his master’s commanding hands, nipples hardening at the cool air, Merlin’s eyelids flutter closed giving in to his own wants. Yelping at pointer finger and thumb pinching his nipples, Merlin’s cries are released as Arthur breaks their kiss apart groin tightening at the wreckage caused under his direction. Suckling the rosy buds, biting, nibbling their very tips, he watches Merlin toss his head back with a low grunt in fascination. Craving more, more, more, Arthur continues his demonstrations against the saliva coated buds with his mouth while using his left hand to caress the boy’s side, his right trailing lower, lower, and lower.</p>
<p>	Wrenching a hoarse cry, back arching, rutting into Arthur’s hand enclosed around his manhood, Merlin bites his bottom lip vibrating underneath the extensive attention. All too soon, the king releases his hardened prick sticking fingers into Merlin’s mouth, who at first refuses them, but after receiving a punishing nip to his throat, avidly accepts. “Suck them,” Arthur orders next to his ear, nibbling his earlobe. Twirling his tongue around the roughened, callous digits, manhood jerking from every lick to his nipple, and swat against his thigh, Merlin hungrily coats them until Arthur, deeming it enough, removes them in turn for his lips once more.</p>
<p>	Tongues clashing together brutishly, sweetly, softly, then punishingly, Merlin squeals at the unfamiliar intrusion gliding into his hole. Preparing him, one finger after another, deeming him ready, Arthur pulls from the boy, grabs both legs spreading them wide open. Licking his bottom lip, eyes glinting predatorily at his prey blushing a beautiful crimson red, he rumbles a dark growl. Hair tousled, abused lips parted in want, nipples swollen, thighs red from careless swats, hands digging into sheets beneath them, hole a peachy pink, with Merlin’s eyes slit open Arthur can’t help but think of him as seduction itself. Guiding his tip inside, Merlin tenses, but under Arthur’s instruction, slowly relaxes. Slotting inside completely, disregarding the powerful urge to senselessly thrust, he glides in and out slowly.</p>
<p>	Grunting at the pain, body in reflex arching away from Arthur, tears slide down Merlin’s cheeks. His king bending over gently kissing them away, cooing sweet nothings, he groans at the tight enclosure wrapping around his cock. Merlin’s entrance widening, accepting the blonde’s girth, gradually Arthur begins a steady rhythm, their bodies bouncing on the mattress until, eventually, tired of the easy pace, Merlin snaps, “I thought you told me I wouldn’t be able to walk. At this rate, I bet I could run a marathon afterward.” Puffing at the rebel’s slick words, Arthur attains a manic grin.</p>
<p>	Lifting Merlin’s legs even further bending them over his shoulders, Arthur rumbles, “let’s see then, shall we?” Maybe Merlin should’ve watched his mouth and waited before running it. Like a switch, from slow and content, Arthur digs balls deep into the mage slamming hips against hips, balls against balls, thrust after thrust as the bed itself knocks tirelessly against the cobblestone wall. Wailing low moans, cut up gasps, and short-pitched whines, Merlin’s body limps under Arthur’s control, his hole squishing with pre-come. At the very last second, both males stilling, Arthur’s hips shuddering, Merlin’s mouth gushes open a wide, soundless O as he cums onto his belly with Arthur’s cream pouring, gushing hot inside.</p>
<p>	Catching their breaths, contentment, happiness, and satisfied lust overwhelm the two as Arthur tugs Merlin’s bruising, bitten lips in another searing kiss. Languidly sucking down his chin, purple reddish marks aligning his neck, Arthur’s thumbs lazily brush over Merlin’s sensitized nipples bringing forth another broken gasp. Running dainty fingers through Arthur’s silky hair, in a small confession, letting his guard slip, Merlin affirms, “I love you.” The two freezing on spot, skin paling at what he’d just said, before Merlin can take it back, he’s pulled onto Arthur’s lap gurgling at the man’s rod digging, somehow, farther into his ass.</p>
<p>	Breath stolen in the longest kiss he’s ever had, Merlin enthusiastically leans into his king’s embrace. Rage from earlier replaced by pure delight, Arthur grabs black strands tearing their mouths shortly aside grinning, “about time you admitted as much. How can the world’s strongest sorcerer be so dense I wonder, even stranger how I love you for it as well.” Tears smoldering his eyes, Merlin leans his head on Arthur’s shoulder, the two hugging, and for once, the mage neglects the familiar warning bells clinking in his mind. After a minute, the mage’s eyes widen at the softened prick still inside growing stiff and strong as if never used before. “Seems another round is in order,” Arthur jauntily whispers.</p>
<p>	Body already sore with stomach drenched inside and out by cum, Merlin begins deploring the snark against his kings’ enthusiasm earlier. Without removing himself first, Arthur spins Merlin onto his stomach, dribbles of cum embarrassingly slipping down the mage’s thighs, and slowly pulls out only to strike, drive, and shove back, out, and so on so forth. During their fourth round, Merlin spent dry, cock spasming despite its tried state, he momentarily passes out and regains consciousness to sharp slaps against his ass. The night goes on and only when the sun peaks, does Arthur collapse atop his lover. Rolling to his side, carefully  slipping himself out of Merlin’s entrance, who pitifully moans, he  watches his clogged sperm gush from his lover’s hole, the mage feeling relief in emptying his stomach from the contents that’d pushed far into his belly.</p>
<p>	Aching in the best way possible, limbs trembling despite their intimacy coming to a close, Merlin purrs at Arthur’s attentiveness who retrieves a rag, dips it in warm water, and cleans them both up. Voice completely shattered and cracked from overuse, like everything else, Merlin manages, “you need sleep and it’s already sunrise.” Hushing the mage handing him a cup of milk, Arthur observes every wince, flinch, and quiver his lover’s body showcases while gulping down the soothing liquid. Teeth marks and bruises adjourn Merlin’s pale skin while thin, long scratches line Arthur’s back.</p>
<p>	It was a night they would never forget, although, Arthur supposes, he could’ve been a little gentler with Merlin considering it was the boy’s first time. Oh well, he’s sure Gaius will lecture him in due time after sending for him. Merlin will probably hate his king for it, but their relationship is no secret to the court physician, and whether the sorcerer likes it or not, his body needs attending. “Don’t worry about me, I’ve stayed up plenty of nights before during missions and patrols. You, on the other hand, are to stay in bed while I track down the kitchens for breakfast since a certain someone doesn’t wish to be seen.” In reality though, at this moment, Arthur’d rather no one else lay a single stare on Merlin right now. Along with a platter of eggs, sausage, biscuits, and fresh fruits, he’ll also be locating Gaius. For a change, Merlin complies to his king’s wishes and after handing Arthur back the empty cup, leaning his head onto a pillow, he instantly drifts into a heavy, deep sleep.</p>
<p>	Low disputing voices awakening him two hours later, he buries his head further into the cotton pillow, eyes shut, ears indifferently hearing the faded tones until indolently recognizing who they belong to. Is… is that Gaius? “Have you no restraint Sire? He may be of age but that doesn’t mean you… oh mercy. He’s covered in bruises, I should smack some sense into that thick skull of yours for overdoing it!” Under other circumstances, Merlin would find this hilarious since Gaius has never dared speak against royalty, but seeing how he’s the butt of the joke, Merlin’s quite discomfited. Of course this is Arthur’s doing, involving his father-figure, doing things without his opinion again. Yes, he feels extremely sore, but he’s positive it’ll go away soon enough. There was no need to entail the court physician.</p>
<p>	Arthur, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, observes the sleeping male nude underneath the soft silken sheets. Gaius is right, repeating allegations he already knew from the beginning, but what’s done is done. Merlin enjoyed it just as much as he did, and frankly, that’s all that matters in his book. “I understand Gaius, truly, I do, but can you lecture me after examining his body.” Scoffing, hitting the king with the rag in his hand, he treads next to Merlin’s side tenderly shaking him awake. “Come on, wake up.” Already woken, the mage pretends to jostle from sleep turning his face from cloth to Gaius, the red in his cheeks darkening by three hues.</p>
<p>	Pulling the blanket with him as he sits up, everything pleasurably sore, he yawns blinking at Arthur who is willing his groin from springing for another round. “Let me guess, Arthur brought you here.” Blameless in this at least, the king nods without remorse while the physician fetches a large, comfy white nightshirt for Merlin to wear afterward.</p>
<p>	Drawing the thin blanket back, Merlin burns bright red making to cover his intimacy but Gaius slaps his hand away grumbling, “no need to play modest now, maybe you should’ve thought about this sooner before canoodling with his highness.” Rubbing his arms, checking his neck, observing the bruises, feeling natural tremors, the old man is put at ease finding minimal, normal vital signs of a healthy body. “Alright, I need you to take this after breakfast, it’ll calm your nerves and help restore some strength. I also want you, or Arthur I suppose, to rub this lotion into your skin for the marks. A hot bath will do some good as well, and even though Barric left and the spell’s broken, I don’t want you running around the palace!” Um… say what again? Barric’s gone? The spell’s broken? Since when? “There’s chocolate strawberries and sweet bread on the table I had Gwen put together. Don’t worry, I didn’t say why. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to wash my eyes with holy water.” Padding out the room giving Arthur one last I’m-watching-you-glower, he exits.</p>
<p>	Holding the jars he’d been given, Merlin purses his lips in a staring contest with the king uninterested in excuses of why he wasn’t informed about the change of plans so quickly. This may be the third day, but the spell wasn’t supposed to be lifted until tonight. “So, good news, Barric’s gone,” Arthur cheekily announces swiftly dodging a pillow thrown his way. “Okay, fine, I should’ve told you yesterday, and I meant to. The problem was I got side tracked with a certain servant, the one in my bed ready to kill me in fact.” That’d be putting it lightly.</p>
<p>	Bundling the sheets back over himself, legs curling to the side, Merlin twits, “You couldn’t have said anything sooner? Like, I don’t know, this morning!” Catching the loose shirt left by Gaius, Merlin slides in it on the mattress to Arthur’s dismay, removes the blankets, sets his feet on the ground, but as soon as he stands up, immediately, he tumbles to the ground, knees bent with legs mightily quivering. Yelping at jolts of pain shooting through his thighs, he bites his bottom lip, two tears springing forth. “Come on,” he whines, willing his limbs to get up. They refuse.</p>
<p>	Arthur, feeling rather proud, entertained, and sympathetic, kneels beside his lover, picks him up, and places him back on the bed. “It doesn’t matter now because you’re not going anywhere. Gaius’ orders.” Laughing, he bends over the smaller male whispering in his left ear, “I make well on my promises, do I not?” Shuddering, Merlin turns his head the other way mumbling ‘prat’ and ‘royal pain’ among other insults mixed together. The king, having told the knights he’d be with Merlin the rest of the day, takes the jars Gaius recommended. Massaging lotions into his skin, making sure he drinks the yellow liquid, feeding him the sweetened breakfast, and ordering a hot bath, Arthur diligently treats the appreciative mage drowning in his king’s affection.</p>
<p>	Closing the curtains around the bed shielding Merlin from the maids scurrying into the room with hot water and a tub, he thanks them carrying his sorcerer to it after they leave. Momentarily recoiling from the hot water, Merlin gradually eases with Arthur behind massaging his shoulders over several teeth marks. Splendid. “Didn’t realize you could be so vigilant,” the mage hums. Groin stiffening for the hundredth time, Arthur wills it away knowing now is most definitely not the moment to pound into that tantalizing little… growling, using his right hand hooking underneath Merlin’s chin, he jerks the mage’s face upward devouring tender, dewy lips.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Fair Fighting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That’s it, I’m done! Throwing the punching bag off its string against the poor servant falling with it, Arthur wipes the sweat from his brow, the other knights jumping out of sight every time he turns their way. Since making love, Merlin’s body good as new, Gaius deemed it necessary against both Arthur and the mage’s wants to move the boy back to his chambers, and while he still completes manservant duties, they barely have a second before intrusions one after another pop up. The king is growing busier by day due to visiting royalty, disputes along the streets, training new men, and hunting down traitors who stole two hundred gold coins overnight. Every time he tries catching a moment with Merlin, a reprieve, it’s shattered by Gaius, guards, knights, his father, and peasants. If he doesn’t do anything soon, he’s going to rip his head off.</p><p>	Done for the day, sitting on a bench gurgling water like a camel, Arthur simmering intensifies when Elyan joins him. “Arthur, come on man, tell me what’s up. You’ve been like this the last four days, it’s concerning.” Taking another lungful sip, he remains silent letting the knight babble on, “Is it because of Merlin? It seems he hasn’t been faring well as of late either, perhaps something happened?” Snapping his head at the mention of his manservant, the king scowls wondering what his comrade is talking about. This is the first time he’s heard about Merlin’s wellbeing, and even though they have sparse time in the morning, he believed the mage to be doing pretty well. Could it be he’s missing him just as much?</p><p>	Cheers resounding past the fields from the marketplace, Arthur places elbows on knees unenthusiastic about their hooting and hollering. The alliance between Essetir and Camelot is to be formed tomorrow when Lot arrives, a cause for celebration indeed. There are to be feasts, games, music, and, per usual, a tournament. Normally Arthur would be thrilled at the prospect, but for now, it’s minutely dimming his mood knowing there won’t be time for him and his lover. “We didn’t fight, if that’s what you’re inferring. There hasn’t been enough time.” Smiling, understanding what he means, Elyan gets up comfortingly gripping Arthur’s shoulder. Deciding he’s had enough, getting up himself, he hollers to Elyan, “if anybody asks, I’m checking on a wounded soldier with Gaius.” Humored, the knight nods stalking toward the new trainees watching his king rush off with a knowing grin.</p><p>	In his room, Merlin, moodier than usually, skims through the spellbook page after page until finally finding the one he’s looking for. Bustling into the main room banging the book on the table where Gaius is working, Merlin brashly points at the top left page exclaiming, “that’s it, if I use this then I can be by Arthur’s side without anyone noticing!” Suspicious of the boy’s unknown plan, the physician carefully sets down the bowl in his hand leaning over the worn paper.</p><p>	Brows furrowing, lips thinning, he instantly straightens arguing, “an invisibility spell? Are you out of your mind? Absolutely not, Merlin, it’s too dangerous!” Prepared for this dispute, the mage opens his mouth to justify his solution, but Gaius, already a step ahead, shakes his head no. “Not another word! I’ve been patient with your moping about since Arthur’s been so busy and have already said you can return to his chambers, but this, I will not allow it!” The only reason Gaius had the boy stay with him so far is because he wanted to look after him, make sure the boy knows what he is doing.</p><p>	Turning head to the side biting his cheek, spinning back around stepping forward one hand open, the other bawled, Merlin protests, “look, I know I haven’t been the best company lately, and I’m glad to go back, but I know I can pull this off, please!” For one so powerful, so witted, Gaius has no idea how he can be this idiotic. Uther still has power to send guards on lookout if he so much as senses a hint of magic, and if he discovers Merlin, Camelot would face many trails worse than before.</p><p>	Door opening and closing, Merlin and Gaius simultaneously gander their king who inquires, “pull what off?” Shutting his mouth, hands behind his back steadily blocking the book from Arthur’s view, Merlin’s about to brush it off but is interceded by his father-figure brushing past snatching the book. Stuttering his oppositions, Merlin tries pleading Gaius stop through desperate blue eyes, but the old man, more worried for the boy’s safety than forgiveness, doesn’t relinquish.</p><p>	Handing the weighty book to his highness, Gaius notifies, “he’s wanting to use an invisibility spell to stay by your side, which I’ve already forbidden sire. Although I doubt he’ll listen.” Shying underneath the firing glaze from skimming ancient text, a small part inside trills, but dies down as Arthur thrashes the book shut. He’s done for. What a shame too, this is the first time they’ve had more than three minutes alone together, why do they always end up in a fight?</p><p>	Handing the book back to Gaius, Arthur approaches Merlin scolding, “have you gone mad? I told you there would be no magical usage unless life-threatening and with my permission. An invisibility spell, no matter the cause, has neither grounds! I stand by Gaius and forbid it, you’ll do well to listen. Now, come with me. There’s preparations to be made before Lot arrives tomorrow and I need your assistance.” A half-life, but really, can anyone blame him? Towing his manservant by forearm, crashing them into a hidden passageway knocking him against a wall, Arthur clashes their lips with sweltering need.</p><p>	Dizzy by the infectious advance, Merlin gladly accepts, wilting, willing for more. They remain as long as possible, Arthur’s hands traveling, gliding over his servant’s sides beneath his blue tunic while Merlins’ twist around broad shoulders. “I’ve missed you too,” he kids after both regaining composures. Footsteps tapping farther down the hall, Arthur hurries them off, but their rapture is diminished when bumping into Uther holding a scroll.</p><p>	Merely glancing Merlin, facing his son, he admonishes, “I’ve been looking for you. The contract has been written, we need to go over it and make sure there aren’t any loopholes Lot can work his way around. You may have picked him, but we can never be too careful. Come.” Already turning his back heading for the council room, Uther turns a corner while Arthur bawls fists grinding teeth wishing to deny his father, screw the contract, and whisk his servant where they won’t be bothered. How is it that, even though he’s king, his father speaks as if he’s still prince?</p><p>	Practically sweating a storm from the maddened heat waves emitting Arthur, Merlin reaches a comforting hand but pulls back when the king spins facing him. “Gaius gave permission to return, did he not?” Nodding, the mage lifts a brow at the agitated blonde knowing all too well the frustration etching his Lord’s face. “Then be there.” Clumping behind his father’s trail, Arthur resists the impel to suck another breathless kiss deplorably departing his irresistible sorcerer. Tonight. They’d have their moment tonight.</p><p>	Only, they didn’t. Sun long gone, moon glittering darkness, Merlin already eaten and bathed, nerves bundled as to what’s taking Arthur so long, paces the room. He wants to find him, but doesn’t dare in case the king come while he’s gone searching. At last, left door swinging open, Arthur weary, worn, infuriated, blasts it shut. Not blinking an eye, Merlin scurries toward him wrapping arms tightly around his neck, face digging onto his shoulder. “Finally, a moment more and I was about to raid the castle, are you alright?” Without a word, he’s squeezed by muscular arms resembling that of two anacondas groveling his lower back stealing air from his very lungs.</p><p>	The council felt like an eternity, it graved his agitation by tenfold and worsened his clarity. It was as if Uther was looking for a fight through their contract, trying to rationalize everything wrong about the worded paper, and after four horrendous hours, the king, fed up, allowed his short-tempered self get the upper hand. He’d nipped each concern with numerous statements in a calm, fitting state hushing the retired king, then left without another word. “I will be, just need some rest is all.” On it, Merlin magically heats the cooled water while setting a plate of steamed cabbage, stuffed eggs, chicken drumsticks, and meat pie in front of his king. Hunger sated, Arthur allows himself undressed by teasing fingers untying at knots and laces. After bathing, hunger sated, chest bare wearing simple brown pants, he sets his sight on the manservant stoking a warm, roaring fire.</p><p>	Placing the stoker back in its spot, Merlin being thrown off his feet and thrashed onto the bed, murmurs, “such an animal.” Eyes clamping shut, neck straining at bold, daring lips smashing his, tongues swirling, he’s pushed further into the mattress below Arthur’s weight. The moment, however, doesn’t last long. Collapsing onto his lover, strength dissipated, snores resound the hollow walls as Arthur slips into well-needed sleep. Of course. Sighing, clutching for air, Merlin rolls the blonde to his back, extinguishes the candles, lowers the fire, and slips covers over them both. It’s not like he can fault the king. He knows how hard he’s been working, trying to better the kingdom in all ways practicable. Which is why he’s got a special surprise for him, an idea that came while he’d been on a run for Gaius.</p><p>	Waking an ungodly hour the next day, Merlin performs usual duties, elated, jubilant hollers awakening Arthur as well as the blinding sun from Merlin cheerfully spreading the curtains apart. Groaning, tossing a pillow over his head at the boy’s morning hello, soon recalling his actions, Arthur hustles out of bed. “Gods Merlin, last night, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-” silenced by a short peck, he quirks an eyebrow perplexed by his servant’s cheek-to-cheek grin.</p><p>	Collecting the Lord’s attire, Merlin readies him for Lot’s arrival and the day’s chaotic events. “No need for apologies sire, though I do find it refreshing you have the ability to do so. I’ve already prepared your armor for the tournament. I may find it ridiculous how you knights fight for entertainment, but it’s not like I can stop you.” Fastening the belt, Merlin meets deeply amused eyes. “Don’t get so cocky, your ego’s already big enough as is. Lot should be arriving soon, um,” faltering, trying to ask without sounding disappointed, Merlin wonders, “he believes I’m your consort, how are we to tell him otherwise?” A question he’s been dying to know for a while now.</p><p>	Issue already taken care of, Arthur admits, “he knows the truth. In our summoning letter, I added another discreet message entailing our situation. He’s promised not to mention it.” Good, that’s good, Merlin bitterly thinks. He knows it’s wrong, shouldn’t encourage it, but a large part enjoyed being publicly viewed as Arthur’s lover. Oh well, there’s no way they could’ve pulled it off, especially with Uther around.</p><p>	Horses, carriages, and soldiers streaming into view, everybody fits into their roles, Merlin by Arthur’s side, as he and Uther stand on stairs near guards, Lot mightily hopping off his stallion. Meeting halfway, they grasp elbows, grins adjoining faces. Uther introducing himself next, he and Lot share their pleasantries. “You have traveled a long way, my son has told me a great deal about your strength, claims you’re as mighty as they come. Camelot welcomes you, come, let us bind our kingdoms,” the retired king offers. Lot is much more than a simple man of power, Merlin thinks, wishing desperately to welcome his friend as well, to hear about Fortis’s health. The lords, followed by guards, enter the council room, and while most are distracted in seating themselves, Lot offers a friendly, familiar smile towards the brunette.</p><p>	The contract is settled under an hour, hurrahs or fellowship enveloping the momentous attainment. Dismissed, all excited to ready for the tournament, banquet, traditions, and dances, all that remains is Arthur, Merlin, Lot, and Uther. “I should like to rest before the festivities.” The visiting king adds, “I hate to ask this, but my servants are fairly worn and I could use some assistance in arranging my baggage. Merlin, I believe? Would you be so kind as to assist me?” Sly fox! Hiding an enlarging grin from his face, Merlin bows, assenting the king’s request. “Very good then.” Departing ways, Uther exits, but before the rest can follow, Arthur, not liking the idea of his servant alone with another man, despite it being Lot, delays the idea.</p><p>	Resting a hand on Lot’s shoulder, Arthur admits, “I’ll come as well, it's been far too long since we’ve last seen each other and I’m anxious to hear Essetir’s progression.” Merlin rolling his eyes, felicity blooming in his chest, watches Lot nod, their legs stretching side by side throughout dense halls. Entering the room, door closed, Lot spins around wheezing as Merlin practically runs him down with a massive, glorious hug. He may be a fierce warrior, but underfoot, Merlin knows he’s a gentle giant at heart. “Do you want to suffocate the man?” Drawing his servant away by the neck, Arthur snits at Lot’s belly laugh.</p><p>	Standing straighter, formalities washed away between the trio, Essetir’s king glows, “I see not much has changed, I’m glad. Fortis misses you by the day my friend, in fact, he bears a gift.” Perking, Merlin nosily peeks around Lot’s back but is held close to Arthur by an arm. Circling around, presenting something lightweight wrapped in red satin, Lot hands it to Merlin. Amorously unwrapping the fabric, he heaves a cautious breath at one of Fortis’s winged feathers shining, sparkling from different angles. “They say a single strand has the ability to restore what is past, guide the lost, and rid a hatred’s heart. Using enchantments, the possibilities are limitless. If you can braid an elder leaf, I wonder what else you can do.” He knows? Clutching the feather to his chest backing away, Merlin’s pushed behind Arthur about to unsheathe his sword but stops at Lot putting up his hand. “Be not afraid for your secret is safe with me. I find it odd the king of Camelot harbors a sorcerer in secret when he has the power to change his father’s law.” Slight, crude judgment hardening his eyes, before Merlin can defend Arthur, he continues, “but it’s none of my concern. I only wish to say Merlin, should something ever happen here, I’d be more than pleased to welcome you as my guest.” Sincere in his words, Merlin nudges in front of Arthur earnestly thanking him.</p><p>	A rare occurrence to experience pledged sanctuary by royals, the mage intends to offer another hug but is dragged firmly against Arthur’s chest. “Thank you for the offer, but he will not be needing it. If you’ll excuse us, I have a tournament to ready for.” Tugging them towards his chambers, Merlin wrestles against it grasping his feather but eventually gives in. Arriving, Arthur bumps his sword onto the table griping, “what right does he have to question my authority, to try taking you away from me? I don’t want you near him Merlin, he may be on our side but that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous!” Possessive prat! Lot knows his secret yet didn’t mention a word of it to anyone.</p><p>	Gently hiding the feather underneath files of clothing in Arthur’s cupboard, Merlin collects polished armor beginning the process of linking chains, belts, and links together around his king. “He isn’t trying to take me anywhere, he only meant as a backup. If Lot meant us harm, I’d already be in the dungeons, no, don’t deny it. You’d protect me, I know, but as king it wouldn’t bode well. I’m pretty sure he was only pressing your buttons, nothing more.” Which you utterly fell for, Merlin mutely chortles. Brooding, ready for a fight, Arthur doesn’t respond choosing to think about his opponents, their weaknesses, his skills, and the required movements to win. Armor set, cloak tied, helmet in hand, Arthur bounds the door but is stopped by his elbow. “One more thing Sire.” Placing a strip of red fabric, torn from his scarf, into Arthur’s hand, he babbles, “I know it’s not customary, but I extend my favor.” Stirred emotionally, and physically, Arthur indulges those healed, pink lips he cannot wait to devour like before.</p><p>	Setting them apart, tying the material around his bicep, he breathes, “you’re too cheeky for your own good. Let’s go.” Citizens cheering in the stands, Uther and Lot sitting in front, Merlin settles beside Gwen as the fights begin. Noble blood clashing metal against metal, Arthur wins every challenge admitting him to the finals. Big surprise there.</p><p>	Exiting the grounds for a drink of water, he smirks at innocent, blue eyes following and fades through a tent. Lancelot ardently waving a kiss towards Gwen, one of her handkerchiefs peeking underneath his chest plate, she blushes, blowing him a kiss in return. Merlin, seeing all, teases the living hell out of her on how mighty a warrior he must be to gain the heart of such a fearless woman as herself. Tilting her head, lips biting a tiny smirk, she jests, “And what about Arthur? Did you notice the red around his arm, I can only guess who its owner is. The fabric looks like it belongs to a scarf, oh, kind of similar to the one I’ve seen you wearing. Suppose it's a coincidence?” Tables reversed, rosiness doting his skin, he manages a shrug happy for the fights to resume. Flinching every time metal slashes against his kings’ flesh, Merlin holds his breath during the last round with Arthur on his back. Rolling away in the nick of time, regaining his stance, he plunges excalibur into the attacker’s side deeming him champion. Crowds cheering, royals clapping, servants busier than ever, Merlin slips away into Arthur’s chambers while his king embraces their enthusiasm.</p><p>	Where is he dammit?! Banquet continuing in the grand halls, night having befallen the kingdom an hour ago, Arthur rummages from Gwen, to Gaius, to Cook, to his knights, to several other spots and people he might find Merlin, but finds the scavenge fruitless. Charging into his chambers latching the doors in place, he fails to notice the twitching body on his bed until removing armor and weaponry. Stilling, eyes progressively spotting his mattress, the king stumbles beside the table shocked, baffled, and paralyzed. Wearing a flimsy translucent red nightshirt bunching at the thighs, kneeling, gagged by waddled cloth tied around, eyes downcast, ankles locked in shackles, Merlin tilts his head. A steady metal collar fixed around his throat, lengthy chain attached to the front, it clinks from the smallest motion. Treading closer, Arthur nearly releases a groan, his half-hard groin stiffening to attention, when he observes a metallic belt circling the mage’s waist with a cage entrapping the male’s manhood. A chastity belt.</p><p>	Gulping in anticipation, Arthur notes two shackles meant for wrists beside the mage yet to be attached. He wonders why. “What’s this then?” His voice is husky, sopped dry. Is he dreaming? Removing the makeshift gag for the mage to respond, lifting the boy’s chin, he suppresses another groan at the feel of porcelain skin trembling to his touch. What a treat. One he wishes to pounce right away, keep hidden from the world’s view.</p><p>	Licking his bottom lip, greeting the king’s lust-glistened stare, he mewls, “you are my victor, are you not, my Lord? As stated by Camelot’s laws, you bearing my favor, winning in turn I am yours for the taking if you so desire.” Desire he does, in every way possible from the moon and back. Playing along, fingers sliding over easily tearable material down his chest, snaring a nipple between fingers pinching it the slightest bit, he growls, appetite for his boy after so long catching up.</p><p>	Grasping the chain yanking the brunette’s head up who releases a mini yelp, Arthur demonically gloats, “my prize, a reward worthy of a king then, I’m honored.” Pausing, he notions his head toward the remaining shackles impatiently demanding, “why aren’t they on you?” Merlin really should have thought this a little bit more through. He knows Arthur’s patience is on thin ice, but he has no idea how the king’s going to take the extra surprise. Hopefully it’ll please his king.</p><p>	Shakily handing them to the blonde, the brunette informs, “these are called refulsits, I’ve read about them before and found them. They can harmlessly lock my magic away, but the one to put them on is the only one who can remove them.” Thunderstruck, lost for words, Arthur takes several seconds to form some composure. So much trust, he’s gifting his entire being in my hands. Heaven forbid, I love this man. Wordlessly asking if this is what he truly wants, Arthur shivers at Merlin’s pouting lips pleading, “please Arthur.” That’s all it takes. Tenderly grasping each wrist, locking the metal in place, an extensive shudder overtakes Merlin recovering moments later. Power imprisoned, utterly, entirely vulnerable to his king’s wants, it’s a miracle Arthur doesn’t cum that second.</p><p>	Emerging mouths, hands cupping the boy’s head, Arthur bites Merlin’s bottom lip deep enough for a shallow cut to thin out where small bloodied droplets drip on his tongue. Plunging tongue inside, Arthur places one knee on the bed, other leg still standing as Merlin instinctively resits, teeth biting down the sudden intrusion. Snarling, the king lets go lifting him further up by his hair only to toss him back against the headboard. Ridding his clothes entirely, Arthur straddles the brunette using one hand to hold Merlin’s hair, the other grabbing his own cock at the base. “Disobedient brat, how dare you! Open up.” Mouth refusing until pried by thumbs spreading his lips, tip barely breaching inside, Merlin’s eyes widen, throat spasming, as Arthur dives with one large strike. Grunting at tight wetness clamping around his cock, tongue buried underneath squirming for room pleasuring his manhood further, Arthur keeps himself inside for a full minute despite his manservant’s futile escape attempts. “Keep it up Merlin, I enjoy the fight.” Jaw cramping, throat messily gagging, and tongue uselessly swirling, Merlin ultimately gives in keening for some relief.</p><p>	Petting his bulging cheek, reading his wish through compliance, Arthur bucks out watching his boy sputter for breath, pre-cum dripping down the corner of his mouth. How sinful. Roaming fingers across his body, sometimes squeezing, often massaging, and mostly paying extra attention to rosy, peaked nipples, Arthur licks, sucks, bites, and marks over each patch of flawless skin. On fire, knees bunching together every time the slightest touch glides an inner thigh, Merlin’s hands dig into the sheets useless in their bound state. Cock trying to stir, he cries at the metal biting into his manhood preventing it from rising any further. Thirty minutes later, induced, drugged by sensual tinges, puffy tears slide down Merlin’s cheeks at being pleasurably tortured by his king’s generously painful affections.</p><p>	Opening his puffy pert hole, easier than last time, Arthur eases inside, waits, pulls back, and drills back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, rocking the bed, moving it by an inch, as he doesn’t relinquish his fast pace. Wantonly moaning, mouth unable to shut, drool glides down his chin, his chains clanking, clinking, jingling with the collar straining against his skin during random moments Arthur pulls its chain. Yanking his lips into several sloppy kisses, he wheels Merlin onto all fours, grabs his hips, and drags them against his every thrust. Confined cock swinging with the rhythm, Arthur tugs it while fondling Merlin’s balls, hunching over the boy’s back nipping his neck. “P-please Arthur, i-it hurts. A-aaCaGH!” Chocking on four fingers plummeting into his mouth, Merlin shuts his eyes, ass clenching groin within as it’s filled with his king’s essence.</p><p>	Slumping on the mattress, Arthur on top, he weeps at harsh hands swatting his butt, skin marring mellow pink after five swats. “Easy love, rest up because we’ve barely begun.” How does he have this much stamina? I’m gonna die! Round two finds Merlin riding his master on top, nipples being plucked, flicked, twisted without a second’s break. Round three Merlin’s bent over the dinner table, its edge excavating against his hips flourishing fresh bruises and indentions. Round four, Merlin’s palms flatten against a window, thankfully mostly covered by a curtain, with his back arching and Arthur pounding mercilessly away. Cock in treacherous pain alleviated seconds at a time when Arthur tenderly rubs it, the mage wilts to the floor after another filling. </p><p>	Round five, on the furred rug near a crackling fire, Merlin’s chest on ground, face sideways, his arms are held straight back by Arthur's continuous rutting. Round six, Arthur standing, pressing Merlin against a wall whose legs wearily tangle around his Lord’s back, shoots familiar cream within. Round seven, Arthur enters him, both flat on the bed, him atop. Exhaustion, pain, and overstimulation cracking Merlin bit by bit, although he’s been able to spurt a little here and there, he feels as if he’s going to burst any moment. Round eight, missionary style, at the climax of their coupling, a distinct key clicking into place, metal unwrapping, manhood freed, Merlin’s body freezes, ears ringing, eyes blaring blank white, Arthur wraps his hand around the smaller cock bringing them both to orgasm. </p><p>	Merlin’s lasting thirty seconds, voice unable to tremble a single sound, back arching up, tummy coated by spunk, he mewls as Arthurs’ intimacy plops out. Enough seed to fill half a mini pot drizzling, oozing down his crack, everything sensitive from the slightest touch, he curls into a bawl, arms enveloping around Arthur keeping him close for comfort. Caressing his hair, soothing calming whispers, Arthur worries if he’d gone too far from his lover’s immense trembling, but Merlin bites the anxiety away murmuring, “hold me, m’so sleepy. Love you m’Lord.” Yawning, eyes dreary, voice croaked, and limbs slackened, Merlin drifts to sleep while Arthur gets up for rags, hot water, and the ointments, lotions, liquids from Gaius. Sending a maid for ginger cheesecake, strawberry pudding, French toast, and others for a bath, he carries out the responsibilities of a vigorous lover making sure to take off the restraints as well.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Princess Elia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Branches rustling, leaves twitching, Arthur draws the arrow subtly searching the artful creature. “Do you see it,” Merlin exclaims bumping into his king, arrow shooting a tree as a white-tailed deer scurries into the distance. Percival and Leon chuckling, this being the fourth time, Arthur swings his weapon down irked at the missed shot. Two days after the celebrations, festivities, tournament, and Lot’s departure, Arthur’d decided today would be as good as any for a hunting trip. Unfortunately his servant was rapidly changing his mind.</p>
<p>	Elyan retrieving the stuck arrow, he hands it to the king staring his manservant down. “For crying out loud Merlin, are you going to do this all day? We’re not here to play games, we’re hunting. One more disruption and you’re going to the stocks!” Briskly coursing away, he ignores Leon and Gwaine’s snickering choosing to follow Lancelot down the small slope. Traveling across the forest terrain half a mile, they halt at echoing noises nearing closer.</p>
<p>	At first they believe it to be a distressed animal of some sort but dash in the direction when a loud, powerless woman screeches, “help! Help me please! Somebody!” Seeing the woman attacked, a group of bandits raid her camp as she fights for survival. Camelot’s knights incoming, swords, arms, and legs swinging to and fro winning the fast battle, one man shoots an arrow Arthur’s way but is pushed by Merlin, its tip slicing into his shoulder. Men evacuating, abandoning their failed pillage, the cloaked woman wilts to her knees soon surrounded by Leon and Percival while Arthur, in a panic, checks on Merlin.</p>
<p>	He’s fine, of course. It’s merely a flesh wound, and while the king would normally scold Merlin for dismissing his own health, he knows there is another harmed than the brunette. Bandaging the bleeding wound, Arthur sets Merlin against a tree rushing to the woman, faltering as her hood falls revealing Princess Elia of Elmet. “My lady, I am Prince Arthur of Camelot, are you alright?” Nodding, her breathing relaxes when he asserts, “good, let’s get you to Camelot.” Riding back, Princess Elia uses Merlin’s horse as he partners with Gwaine to Arthur’s slight annoyance. Back in the throne room, handful of attendees, they listen with Arthur and Uther to the lady’s recent misfortunes.</p>
<p>	Clutching her dress, teary-eyed, she proclaims, “I was journeying north to visit a dear friend when me and my party were ambushed, they kidnapped me but luckily I escaped. They caught up and were about to take me again if not for you my Lord. I’m so grateful to you and your knights.” Sympathetic to her previous trials, the people approve of Arthur’s decision in allowing her refuge until she has gained strength for home. Before parting, Uther questions if she has her family’s crest anywhere considering it a vital importance to any royal member. “My brooch carries my seal but I cannot find it. I fear it may be lost in the forest.” It made sense. Situating her in a room close to Morgana’s old one, after seeing her comfortable, Arthur hurries to Gaius tending the mage’s shouldered wound.</p>
<p>	Closing the door behind him, Arthur peers at Gaius sitting on a stool next to a patient’s bed where Merlin sits tensing from the older man’s treatments. “How is he?” Without allowing Merlin the ability to falsify his condition, Gaius motions to the king beside him. </p>
<p>	Doing so, he listens to the physician’s report. “Fine for the most part, though should that arrow have pierced another inch, I fear that would not be the case. Luckily there is no sign of infection and I’ve been able to stitch it. However, he requires lots of rest.” Merlin about to interrupt, both males glare him quiet. “I should like to keep an eye on him in case anything shows.” Not again! Why does he have to stay when feeling perfectly fine? “How was the meeting with Princess Elia?” Summarizing her story and his solution, Arthur lists his intention of ensuring her safe passage home standing when a guard enters declaring Uther would like a word. Holding one side of Merlin’s face, Arthur tells him to behave and bids them farewell.</p>
<p>	Listening to their steps hollow out, Gaius inquisitively hums to himself standing from the stool collecting more water. Uh oh, Merlin knows that look. Something’s wrong. “What is it? Surely you don’t have reservations about Princess Elia.”	 Why is it always a visiting noble causing trouble?</p>
<p>	Mashing together ginger and ginseng, Gaius contemplates, “two years ago, last I heard, Princess Elia was pregnant with an unknown suitor.” From Northumbria? “She tried eloping with him but was stopped by her father. Fortunately, he allowed her the baby. I find it odd a mother would visit a friend without her child, especially one so young.” Great, and to top it off he’s got an injured shoulder to deal with while investigating this. “No! Do not get up Merlin, I want that shoulder healed before getting into any more trouble. For now, it’d be best we lay low and keep a close eye out.” Sulking, he drifts to sleep after chugging a disgusting fluid meant to ward away infection.</p>
<p>	Awakening around noon, Merlin discovers Gaius gone, most likely for a patient, and hastily packs his satchel ignoring the occasional throb in his shoulder. Princess Elia said she lost her brooch in the forest, if Merlin can find it perhaps it can provide some sort of clue. Cantering through hidden halls and passageways, Merlin slips into the lower towns squeezing between men and women. Taking a corner, stumbling into a brick wall, Merlin groans clutching his head realizing too late, rather than stone, it is Percival. “Merlin? What’re you doing here, shouldn’t you be with Gaius? Your shoulder took a large hit.” What of his body hasn’t? Merlin’s faced a countless amount of injuries, this is nothing.</p>
<p>	Clutching the wound without intending to, Merlin drawls, “It’s better now. I’m on my way to the forest. Gaius believes there’s something odd about Princess Elia so I’m going to look for her brooch. I’m begging you, let me pass and don’t say anything. I should be back before sundown.” He’d thought about lying, but nothing would be good enough compared to the truth because it means Arthur could be in danger. No matter what, the sole purpose of a knight is to defend Camelot and all within, and if Princess Elia is a potential threat, Merlin knows Percival will do the right thing.</p>
<p>	Setting a palm at the handle of his sword, Percival perceives the injured shoulder considering his next course of action. “If what you say is true, then I understand your purpose, but I’m coming along. You’re in no state to leave alone and Arthur would have my head if he found I let you off by yourself.” Merlin has such caring friends. He and Percival both damn well know Arthur should have his head if he finds Merlin left at all, and yet Percival’s still taking the risk when he could easily turn the mage in. Nodding, Merlin leads them past the gates into the forest eyes peeled for anything shiny, metallic, and unnatural to nature’s setting. An hour turning into two then three, Percival bends down shouting, “I think I may have found something.” Squatting next to him, Merlin looks at the small brown pouch with tiny rosebud petals tied by thin, green vines. Opening it a little, pink slime seeps the seal. Closing it back up, Merlin packages the pouch in his satchel wanting to research the item as soon as possible.</p>
<p>	Applauding his astute companion, Merlin regards, “I bet I would’ve missed that if it weren’t for you, I’m glad you came. Even if we didn’t find her brooch, this might be able to tell us all we need to know.” Humbly accepting the mage’s gratitude, Percival escorts them back to Camelot none surprised when guards receive them at the gates demanding they come with them. Leading to Gaius’s leeway, they dismiss themselves after prodding the two inside. Gaius rearranging jars distracting himself, Arthur leaning against a wall impatiently tapping his foot, they turn their heads at the newest appearances.</p>
<p>	Spotting Merlin, instantly, the king pounces from the wall clutching the mage’s arms shouting, “where the hell have you been?” Marching him to the examination table tearing the concealing shirt from his shoulder, Arthur addresses Percival with an intensifying death glare while Gaius begins undressing the worn bandages. “Leave before I have your head Percival.” Expecting as much, he does as told directing a sorry shrug Merlin’s way who lightly smiles in understanding. Eased at cooling oil soaking into the mending hurt, Merlin refuses to remove his eyes from Arthurs’. “I told you to behave, and what do I find? You missing! What have you gotten yourself into this time, answer me!” Cringing at the oil leaving behind a simmering tinge, the mage tries to wipe it off but Gaius slaps his hand away.</p>
<p>	Sighing, he reaches his satchel fetching the brown pouch from within. “I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but Gaius has reservations about Princess Elia and…” explaining all the physician had revealed, Merlin patiently endures the clean gauze being tautly twirled around his flesh. “I went into the forest searching for her brooch but we couldn’t find it, which is odd in itself considering we were there three hours. Percival found this though, and that’s when we came back. Gaius, do you know what it is?” Freshening his hands with a dull rag, he dries them off and takes the bundle studying its features.</p>
<p>	Crooning in thought, he creeps a smaller book from a shelf shuffling the pages until landing on the forty-fifth. “Sugar celeste, a mixture meant to hypnotize, control, or govern whoever through taste. Says hear it can only be formed by an elven’s cast, hm, a rare type of magic indeed.” An eleven’s cast? Merlin thought elves went extinct long ago during the purge. Perhaps he’s wrong.</p>
<p>	Pinching the top of his nose, eyes closed, Arthur counters, “Princess Elia isn’t an elf, are you both seriously suggesting we’re harboring an elven descent in disguise?” Yeah, pretty much. “Look, I won’t debunk the theory but I can’t approve it either. So you found a mind-manipulation formula in the forest, how are we to know it belongs to her and not somebody else? I’ll make sure she is carefully watched but if I find you’ve disappeared again Merlin, I will not be as merciful.” Arthur vanishing to who cares where, Merlin shakes his head mouth slightly open aghast and unamused by his king’s behavior. Unbelievable. Why is it that every time he tries keeping Arthur safe, he’s continually reprimanded?</p>
<p>	Ushering him towards his room in the back, making sure he’s placed comfortably in bed, Gaius lectures, “he’s right you know. Gallivanting without a word isn’t wise, but… I am proud you were able to locate the slime. I’ll have to thank Percival for assisting and accompanying you.” Warmed at the fondness in his father-figure’s demeanor, Merlin permits sleep to overtake his system.</p>
<p>	The next morning he awakens to a dreadful clench in his gut resulting in puke unraveling over a tin bucket. He dismissed it as being an aftereffect from Gaius’s draft and went along with the coming day’s activities. Arthur’d been busy with patrol, tackling issues brought by citizens, and, surprisingly, took Princess Elia for a horse ride. Merlin wanted to follow but was denied by Gaius and the knights ordered by Arthur to contain the mage due to his pained detriment. Only when given the go-ahead from Gaius in his shoulder’s healed condition would the mage be allowed to do as usual. The next time he throws up, he’d been with Gwen doing laundry and when asked, brushed the matter off. Third time, he’d seen Cook walk by with an uncooked pig over her shoulder, and unusually felt incredibly sickened by its stench. Fourth time, three days later, he’d felt it sliding up his throat and rushed downstairs barely making it outside barfing breakfast.</p>
<p>	That night, investigating an answer for the odd symptom, he sends word to Arthur he’ll be late due to mixing elixirs for Gaius. Ah, Arthur. Another part contributing to his dampening mood. About every day since her arrival, Princess Elia has spent dinners, horse rides, walks, conversations, and most her time with Camelot’s king. Uther even suggested Arthur look into a permanent relationship with her, a traditional one, chilling the servant on instant. Arthur is king, and as such, requires an heir to inherit the throne, but how is he to achieve that without a queen? Merlin dreaded this issue from the very beginning but chose to neglect it until now. Arthur hadn’t said anything to him, was loving per usual, but the mage could not shake himself of the impending future. He’d figured, at first, the king was spending so much time with her to dig into the matter of whether or not she’s the genuine princess of Elmet or an imposter. Day by day that notion broke at their slight glances, sincere smiles, and inside jokes. </p>
<p>	Candles dim, wax melted to the bottom, Merlin leans his head onto wooded surface resting eyes from the tiresome thousand-page volume. Floating in-between sleep, he catches peculiar floorboards creaking by the door, and detecting another presence, thrashes off his bench reviewing the slim intruder cloaked in black. “Who are you, what do you  want?” The interloper shakily removes her hood disclosing a young woman around twenty years with smooth blackened hair, pale skin, and round emerald eyes.</p>
<p>	Seizing the brown pouch from its roost on a shelf, she begs, “please, I mean no harm. I came in search of my brew lost in the woods.” Her brew? Wait… does that mean? Peering closer, Merlin catches his breath at pointed ears poking between black strands. “You know what I am?” Fright cords her voice as she closes hands around the pouch against her chest. “I’m one of the few survivors of my kind, I implore you, if there’s an ounce of mercy within your soul, let me go.” As if she’d have to ask. There’s no way Merlin would forsake a kindred spirit, specially not one as legitimate as hers. Besides, it's his fault for bringing the potion that led her here. It must be incredibly important to have risked her life for.</p>
<p>	Opening the door, glancing left and right, he cordially regards her timid form. “There’s a secret archive on the left between two dragon tapestries, hurry. The burden you must bear, one day things will not always be like this. The king is not his father, I promise. Now go!” Astonished, she wavers before sprinting forth, but before departing, she gifts him a kiss to the cheek, a solo tear running down her face. </p>
<p>	Placing a hand against his chest, she professes, “you are a good man. When the time you speak of comes, I shall pledge my loyalty to Camelot using my prowess for greater good.” In a blink of an eye, she flees. Sliding against the door, fatigue and realization hits him all too quickly. Princess Elia is not the beholder of sugar celeste and there is no other evidence with only speculation for questioning her true intentions. If she is authentic, then there are no regulations against her merit meaning it would be plenty legal should Arthur wed her. Wed, marriage, them? Arthur would never do it, Merlin already knows how loved he is by the king, but what about the kingdom? About Camelot?</p>
<p>	Hobbling in bed, too miserable to be seen knowing Arthur will catch onto his mood, Merlin extinguishes remaining light concealing him in total darkness. Morning arrives presenting another puking session, Gaius zooming inside, wet rag in hand. Wading its sickness, Merlin leans on knees appreciatively rubbing the towel over his mouth. “This has gone on long enough, you think I haven’t noticed your strange behavior? Gwen came to me about your incident but I should’ve known better than to think you’d approach me on your own!” Against meek protest, Merlin ends up laying on the examination table where Gaius performs numerous tests. “One last thing and we’ll be done.” Handing Merlin a cup, he orders, “pee in it, and wait.” Flabbergasted by the mysterious request, Merlin tries questioning what Gaius intends to figure from his urine, but is rejected. Filling the glass, giving it to his mentor, he restlessly thrums fingers, shakes knees, taps feet, and frequently glimpses Gaius. Forty painstaking minutes later, the older man heavily sighs, explores his boy’s intrigued face, and closes eyes none prepared for the predicament at hand. “Merlin, this isn’t…well,” gathering forte, he calmly intones, “it appears you’re pregnant.” All goes black.</p>
<p>	When arousing, Gaius by his side, he groans, “I had the weirdest dream that…” double-checking his father-figure’s edgy stance, he falters, “it wasn’t a dream then? I’m really, there’s a-” unable to continue  the sentence, Merlin worriedly chews his bottom lip. A living life in his belly. How is it possible? Between him and Arthur, he’s carrying the king’s bairn! Whirling protective arms around his stomach, silence stretches between them for several moments. “How is it possible? I’m a male!” Last he checked women had wombs, not men, did some world occurrence happen overnight?</p>
<p>	Seating himself at the end of the table, Gaius answers, “you’re the greatest sorcerer to walk these lands Merlin, a pregnancy, though surprising, isn’t out of reach. I’ll prescribe some concoctions to aid the oncoming pains, but we must be very careful in ensuring your safety. This is a delicate matter and must be dealt as such, we need to tell Arthur.” Shouting no on instant, both are taken aback by the insistent tone, but Merlin doesn’t back down. Not on this. There’s much at stake with this child. For Arthur, would it not be another burden? Camelot needs their king. Needs a queen. Princess Elia and him get along well, and who is he to stand between an honorable union? It’ll break him, tear his heart to shreds, but Merlin loves Arthur enough to free him. Besides, what would Arthur do? Marry him? And for what? His love, or out of duty to the mother of his child? Not to mention the fact their bairn will most likely have magic. For now, he will do nothing drastic and wait. And wait he does. </p>
<p>	One week merging into four, Merlin transitions to his old bedroom using position as Gaius’s apprentice reason enough towards Arthur’s interrogations. The vomiting continues, cramps come, his chest lightly swells, and the tiniest hint of a bulge adds to his belly. Two of the passing four weeks, fortunately, Arthur had gone on a scouting mission seeking robbers who’d stolen from outside villages. Princess Elia, of course, was still here goading the king spend time with her every chance she could. It drove Merlin mad. Speaking of which, here she comes. Passing in the open hall, she stops, disclosing, “hello Merlin, you’re the king’s manservant, are you not? Strange, I barely see you two together.” Look who’s speaking. You’re mother of a yearling yet has strayed from his side. “The king is quite handsome, one I rather fancy, and my dear son, he’d no doubt love him.” A son, huh? Unconsciously placing a subtle hand over his own belly, Merlin keeps trout shut as she gracefully wanders, chuckling, “I better go, our king will be arriving shortly.” Good, go on then.</p>
<p>	Staring out a window, knights behind Arthur, Princess Elia squeals down the stairs wrapping arms around the king’s neck after jumping off his horse. Tears sting Merlin’s skin, heart crunching like broken glass, as they lock arms entering the citadel. There’s one thing left to do. Fluffing pillows atop Arthur’s bed, Merlin bundles sheets into a basket dreading tonight, startling when Arthur lurches inside. “I don’t give a damn how much Gaius needs your help, I’m never leaving you on a mission again.” Tossing the woven basket from hands to floor, Arthur wraps an arm around Merlin’s lower waist, other hand clutching hair, bending, vehemently consuming the brunette. He knows he shouldn’t, shouldn’t want, shouldn’t desire, shouldn’t give in, but Merlin does. He canisters under Arthur’s strength entrusting his entire being to a powerful embrace.</p>
<p>	God, I’ve missed this, Arthur inwardly growls digging, submerging tongue deeper past the willing’s wicked lips. The trip was supposed to last three weeks, but Arthur couldn’t do it, spend another moment from this idiotic man. He’d tried, tried not thinking, dreaming, imagining the mage but utterly failed, which is why he sent word early on. This… this right here, Merlin about passed out, body limp in his hands. Dipping him onto bed, Merlin inherently wrapping weak legs around hips, Arthur nuzzles his neck sluggishly, purposefully biting a renewing mark. Only when the king’s expert touch drifts below his shirt does the mage’s haze shed. “W-wait, Arthur! We can’t!” He’ll see, he’ll know my body has changed. Morphed during our time apart. Ignoring his servant’s plea, the blonde motions to hoist his shirt, but alas, the moment is disrupted by three loud knocks.</p>
<p>	Heartbeat hammering in his chest, limbs clammy, throat freshly pronounced, Merlin gathers the fallen basket as Arthur slams doors open yelling, “what?!” Uncertain in his demeanor realizing the guest to be Princess Elia, he questions, “sorry my Lady, is there anything wrong?” Tightening his grab over the handles, Merlin clenches his teeth as she bats her lashes, a glowing smile radiating the room’s atmosphere.</p>
<p>	Wrinkling her nose, momentarily surveying the servant, she pleasantly gestures, “no my Lord, rather, I came to see if you would escort me to the feasts in honor of your success tonight.” You wench! “Unless there’s somebody else you had in mind.” Control yourself Merlin, if you can survive a poisoned chalice, you can survive a woman’s scorn. How simple, how easy it must be for her to do as she wishes. A royal woman vs. an illegal, magical servant. It’s hardly a competition to who’s the better fit.</p>
<p>	Bawling a fist unseen, Arthur grounds, “it would be an honor, my lady.” Satisfied, she curtsies before scurrying off. “Merlin I-” but the mage is already out the king’s chambers to hear the rest. “Merlin!” Chasing after the brunette, Arthur finds himself at the end of an empty wall without sign of Merlin’s passing. Punching a statued guard, Arthur leans against wall opposite fearing his tiresome patience. Princess Elia’s stay is past appreciated. He knows her true form, but the ridiculous scavenge he suffered through put his plan on hold, and look where he is now. He’ll grant Merlin the day’s finishing hours and converse tonight whether willing or forced.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Declarations in Pursuit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Spending his time wisely, so he likes to believe, Merlin lingers from one knight to another starting with Elyan. Aiding sharpen blades within his father’s old workshop, Merlin gifts him an amulet that turns into a double-edged shield from pressing its middle stone. By chance, he runs into Leon heading for the archives wanting to translate foreign scrolls, which Merlin gladly offers to do. He presents Leon a spyglass, normal in appearances, but unique due to its ability in exposing deceit when used on one’s heart. Next he finds Percival solo training in a tent and acts as a shield running around to better his agility. Merlin gives him blackened bonding tape, strongest of its kind able to hold pillars upon pillars together. A little while later, he discovers Gwen and Lancelot sitting together against a wild oak planted in the middle of an abandoned garden. Not wishing to disturb, he provides the headstrong woman an infinity vase, that whatever is put inside will preserve for however long wished. Lancelot, in turn, receives a pack of arrows that when used, return to their owner no matter the distance. Gwaine, of course, is located in a local tavern. They eat, contemplate the past, celebrate the present, and cheer to a mysterious future.</p>
<p>	Everybody was suspicious, nonplussed, and deeply esteemed by his endowments. They hugged, clapped his back, and investigated the sudden charity concerned for their generous comrade. Gwaine, however, is the one to figure, “you plan to leave Camelot.” He never ceases to amaze me. Lifting a brow showcasing a forced, innocent expression silently wondering ‘how does he know?’ Knight, placing tin cup on bar table, derides, “why else would you give me a pair of dice that acts loaded, but isn’t? Something quite special would be saved for a holiday or birthday, not a mere feast. So what is it?” Downcast, biting his bottom lip looking around at the bustling crowds, Gwaine catches on. “Follow me.” Trailing the knight to a back alley closed from gossiping souls, he goads Merlin spit it out.</p>
<p>	Blushing under the uncommonly serious-stricken warrior, Merlin wraps arms around his stomach heaving, “I don’t, Gwaine I’m…” if it’s this difficult trying to tell Gwaine, he can’t imagine breaking such news to the king of Camelot. “I’m not sure how to say this.” Without judgment, the knight hears his babbling rant run out finally exposing a truth Merlin swore no one but Gaius would hear of. “I’m pregnant.” Years fighting, wooing, drinking, roughly dying, never once has he faced a situation as this, nor one so great to cause him tripping, balancing on a barrel compounding the weight of Merlin’s statement. </p>
<p>	Clearing his throat coughing for dialogue, Gwaine hacks, “p-pregnant? With Arthur’s…” nodding to the unanswered theory, Merlin flinches at the knight turning, facing a wall palms against it breathing deeply like an overdramatic monkey. “To think, my gosh, and does the king know?” Watching Merlin meekly shake no, Gwaine stumbles back to the barrel. “You must tell him! I’m all about independence and freedom but this isn’t your burden alone. For crying out loud, you’re carrying the king’s heir! What else aren’t you telling me? The Merlin I know wouldn’t dare abandon unless desperate enough, so, who is it that’s caused this decision?” Merlin could cry at his best friend’s discerning senses and caring nature. He may joke, but he’s true at heart.</p>
<p>	Sinking to the barrel beside his friend explicating Princess Elia’s scrape over his nerves, he details each concern for Camelot’s future, Arthur’s happiness, and benefits from his departure. “I’ll go to Essetir. King Lot found out about my magic and offered his protection should I need it.” It’s rare, Gwaine disagreeing with Merlin’s rash choices, but he does in this. The mage’s worries are for naught because the king is enchanted by one person, no other, and that is the man sulking beside him. If only he knew how Arthur groveled, couldn’t focus, grew easily tempered, and worked extra hard on their voyage to come home early. Much earlier than anticipated.</p>
<p>	Patting the mage’s back hurdling him close when singular, mini tears dribble his face, Gwaine declares, “for once, my friend, you’re being foolish, but it appears my condolences don’t appease. Sleep tonight, think carefully, and if you’re still adamant in the morning I’ll escort you myself.” Obviously the knight has no intention of doing so whatsoever, but it’ll stall Merlin enough for Arthur to rescue. Gwaine should be given a raise, a pouch of gold for dealing with the king’s obtuseness. Later, dropping a sleep-laden Merlin in his chambers, Gwaine returns to the taverns prepared to drink a giant’s worth on the fact his friend’s pregnant.</p>
<p>	Merlin’s not stupid, well, not all the time at least, which is why he’s currently bundling cheeses, bread, dried meat, water, blankets, medicines, and other materials for the long trip ahead. Waddling his side, Gaius gravely tunes, “you’re making a mistake. He’ll come for you, and with Camelot and Essetir’s peace treaty, Lot won’t be able to hide you forever.” He hasn’t thought that far, hasn’t wanted to, but he’ll think of something. Find a way to escape the king’s clutches, otherwise, Merlin fears his own desires will corrupt good intentions towards Camelot’s durability regarding a respective queen. Finishing up, he and Gaius mutually eye each other saying all that needs to be spoken through noiseless contact, and after a tremendous hug, Merlin flounces for the stables wiping away tears.</p>
<p>	Creeping a blood bay mare, he alerts his presence calmly hushing her. Mounting the least valuable saddle upon her back, tightening the straps, conviction contracting all movement, he leans his forehead against her neck weeping. I can’t do this. “Going somewhere?” Whirling around, air stuck in throat, back pressing into horse, a spooked gasp swirls out. Arthur? Has he been there this entire time? Why? Surely it wasn’t Gwaine’s doing, the knight promised not to say a word, and though faulted, he’s not a liar. “I’m going to give you one chance to explain yourself, and it better not involve me escorting Princess Elia to the feast.” Does Arthur really believe him to be so draft? To abandon all he cares for because of something as minuscule as that? Yes, it pissed him off but he’s not so easily detained.</p>
<p>	Cowering crossly, picking his pack tying it to the saddle’s side, Merlin nonchalantly spews, “go back to the feast Arthur, there’s nothing for you here.” Hoisting foot into stirrup, he jumps up but is snatched, towed across Arthur’s back like a sack of potatoes. “No, put me down!” Struggling as if life in danger, he kicks, punches, and wiggles until a massive sting freezes him. Did Arthur just? Gimping after another two rounds faltered by the king’s heavy-weighted hand, the blonde works their way to his chambers unnoticed. Dumping, tossing him to the floor, Arthur latches the doors, humor, logicalities, and reasonable persona flickering to a wisp. His Merlin meant to leave. His Merlin. I will not stand it!</p>
<p>	Kneeling on one knee, squeezing Merlin’s face using right hand, he eerily admonishes, “tell me!” If only I could. Would you accept the babe? Would you take me against your own kingdom’s laws? I can’t put you in that position, I will not make you suffer for my relief. Quivering, he closes eyes. “You refuse me then?” Merlin remains still. “Very well, have it your way.” Tearing him off the floor by hair, Arthur carelessly slings him face-first onto sheets bent over bed’s edge. Tearing, shredding clothes apart, he plays deaf to wounded cries, helpless pleas, and whimpering nos. Tears streaming down his face pressed sideways into maroon cotton, his chest aches, pains at cushioned material brushing extremely sensitive, diminutively swollen breasts. Metal clinking close by, legs stiffening, heart double skipping, mouth gawking, emptiness of magic, void of its entirety capitulates at familiar manacles interlocking his wrists. No. Yes. Stop. More. Let go. Hold tight. Free me. Secure me.</p>
<p>	Sobbing, ass on fire dealing one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve hulking blows, spittle litters his chin, backside blooming bright apple red. Massaging, groping, rubbing delicate, burning skin, Arthur spreads them presenting the mage’s hollow aperture. Spitting on it, Arthur’s thumb delves inside, opening, stretching to Merlin’s mewling distress, barely enough for three fingers. Aligning tip to entrance, hands unrelentingly clutching hips, at Merlin’s uncomprehending state mumbling, “w-what’re you…” Arthur rams it in. “Aaaaaa-ka-aAa!” Exceedingly tight, clamping, suctioning the king’s manhood, with every thrust, Merlin’s cries break apart in fractured shrieks. Feeling as if he’s about to be split in two, the mage harshly chomps his bottom lip comprehending the rips and tears in his rear’s cavity, each scrape on fire.</p>
<p>	Arthur doesn’t stop, doesn’t yield, doesn’t waver. I’ve caught you as promised, never try and leave again. You and I swore our oaths. Love you, “I love you!” Spilling, hole agonizingly suckling the cream, Arthur gingerly pulls out, spooge leaking. Surveying the flaccid mage, legs useless, body worn, eyes closed, fingers lax, Arthur removes the manacles delicately turning Merlin’s chin. “Tell me.” I want to, I will, I… but the mage tenses at familiar acid rising his throat. Clapping a hand over lips keeping barf at bay, using feeble, rickety feet, he trips, dashes the nearest bucket releasing all contents from today’s meals. The king, panicking, kneels beside the mage caressing his neck in silent support. Hacking the last bit, Merlin recesses in Arthur’s arms craving his love’s entrancing embrace, needing his king’s solace. Calming him, terrified, Arthur transports him to the bed, delicately cleans his neither regions along with using a healing salve, and bundles a long, short sleeve shirt over the brunette. “I’m getting Gaius. I’ll be right back so don’t think about going anywhere!” Outcries unheeded, the blonde strides for his physician’s aid leaving a nerve-wracking sorcerer behind.</p>
<p>	Excluding the finer details, Arthur white lies, explaining he caught Merlin trying to leave, took him to his chambers, performed certain acts, and that Merlin threw up in a bucket. Collecting a unique bluish liquid, no other questions asked, Gaius hurries straightaway. Entering, he ragingly grumbles gibberish examining the boy’s fatigue, organs crushing at the exhaustion hollowing his eyes. “Foolish boy, turning my hair grey by the minute! Here, drink this.” Gulping the sugary fluid meant to calm nerves, fight cramps, and allow rest, Merlin gratefully thanks his guardian. “Don’t assume I’m not upset. Not even a step beyond the gates and you’ve nearly given me a heart attack. Maybe I was willing before, but not anymore.” Oh no, that’s not a happy look. Not a good sign. “Either you tell him or I will!” Perking at the odd account, Arthur crosses arms raising an eyebrow. </p>
<p>	Eyes enlarging threefold, Merlin desperately shakes his head begging Gaius not do it. Not put him in such a vulnerable position. Irritated at being kept in the dark, especially within his own kingdom involving his beloved, Arthur bellows, “tell me what?” Gaius, mouth open, is stopped by tight fingers clutching his arm, fearful blue eyes submitting. If the king is to find out either way, Merlin’ll be the one to say it. Understanding, the physician stands aside.</p>
<p>	Twiddling thumbs, numerous tears clouding his eyes, gazing at the man he loves, wishes to be with, barely a whisper Merlin confesses, “I’m pregnant.” Dumbstruck, thinking it to be a joke at first, Arthur snorts telling him to be serious but sees life flash before his eyes at Merlin’s convulsing, dolorous expression. It’s… true. Wobbling backward sinking into a dinner table’s chair, he steadies his breathing trying to make sense of this, of reality, of fate. How is it possible? Tremulantly asking as much, Gaius explains his theory about Merlin’s magic while petting a comforting hand through the mage’s hair.</p>
<p>	Silence overwhelms the trio for several minutes as Arthur runs his brain through questions, answers, theories, and concerns coming to terms with tremendous, exhilarating news. I’m going to be a father with the love of my life! “Gaius, you are dismissed.” Court physician bowing, Merlin, who’d still yet to discern any type of response from his king other than shock, mews at the loss of his guardian. Doors shut, Gaius gone, Arthur rises in need of an important discussion before celebrating the glorious news. “Why were you leaving Camelot? How dare you! To not so much as say goodbye or even mention the fact you're carrying our child, what were you thinking? My son or daughter is rightful heir to the throne, and you were going to take that away from’em!” He’s wrong. It’s not like that!</p>
<p>	Curling in on himself, fists bawling, tired of running, conspiring, feeling defenseless, he barks, “what do you know? I’m a sorcerer and most likely our child will have their own magic, and in case you forgot, Camelot bans such ‘evils’! I’ve seen you spend enough time with Princess Elia to know I’m not fit to remain by your side no matter how much I yearn to do so. Camelot won’t accept me, hell Arthur, your father would have me hung were he still king! I’d rather rip my heart than leave but what choice do I have with this babe?” Breathless, tummy aching, declining against the headboard, he pouts, eyebrows tilting at consideration crossing his king’s face. He’s thinking. Oh boy. We’re doomed.</p>
<p>	Sinking next to him, setting hand on Merlin’s cheek urging him to peer his way, Arthur chides, “that’s what’s been worrying you? Why couldn’t you have told me this? You thought it was for my sake?” Nodding, his hips pang at a wrong angle releasing a short yelp. Poor thing, I was too rough. Pulling the mage onto his lap cradling the flimsy frame, Arthur sighs into brunette strands, “I’m sorry, I should’ve been gentler.” Merlin starts to object, admit it's what he longed for, what he needed, but keeps shut listening to the king’s authoritative tone. “I knew something was wrong, you were acting weirder than usual. Put your mind at ease, I promise all will be well. I just need you to trust me. Can you?” What a silly question. With my life, Merlin thinks to himself growing sleepy. “Is that so?” Did he say that out loud? “Good, get some sleep love. We have a very busy day tomorrow.” Nothing new there then. </p>
<p>	That morning, Merlin instantly pushes himself awake at Arthur’s clambering feet enthusiastically strutting through the doors. “You have to stop letting me sleep in,” Merlin groans, wiping rheum from his eyes. Assembling an array of soft, red linen robes, the king presents them to Merlin charging he put them on. “Why?” He doesn’t say, only busies for a platter of cleansed fruits, broiled pork, and steamed mushrooms for the mage to eat after dressing. Slipping into the gentle material, Merlin privately purrs from its coziness but before he’s able to make the mistake of walking after a night of intimacy again, Arthur rushes his side.</p>
<p>	Bunching the male in arms to the table, Arthur lustfully examines how perfectly the robes outline Merlin’s frame ruffling over each curve and lean limbs. Although there’s a ringing ache around his hips and thighs, the salve Arthur provided worked its magic leaving nothing but a dull twinge here and there. Eating breakfast together, Arthur head of the table, Merlin to his right, the mage finds himself surprised inhaling each content of his meal. Usually he can’t get past two bites gagging it all up afterward. “Gaius says he’s been observing what you can handle and suggested this. I’m glad.” So thoughtful, both of them. Finishing up, Merlin mentally lists the duties for today as well as letting Gwaine know his mind has changed, but such plans disintegrate when Arthur stands. “Don’t be mad at what I’m about to do, okay?” Without letting Merlin’s alarming brain process what his words could possibly mean, he’s thrusted bridal style in Arthur’s arms.</p>
<p>	 Wrestling the warrior’s hold, Merlin’s minimal strength plays futile as they near the council room. “What is this? I don’t know what you’re doing, but stop it!” Ignoring him, two guards open the doors, and whether surprised or not at the king’s hostage, they remain impassive. Inside stands one man, Uther Pendragon.</p>
<p>	Doors closing, the retired king places a hand on the table beside him, other hand on hip. “What is this Arthur? Have you gone mad? Why are you carrying your servant dressed like that… do not tell me the rumors are true. That you’ve been favoring this boy!” Although he had been summoned by Arthur for a private counsel without reason, he’s starting to realize not what, but who this is about.</p>
<p>	Lightly placing Merlin to feet, but keeping a strong arm around his waist strapping him to his side as if glued together, Arthur proclaims, “It appears so father, and I’ve come to inform he is not only a servant, but a sorcerer. Strongest of his kind.” Eyes bulging both Uther and Merlins’ eyes, the mage trembles under the heated, hatred flaming his way in thick, gushing waves. What the hell is Arthur thinking? Has he gone mad? Am I being turned in? Wanting to call for guards, Uther stops at excalibur being drawn, pointed his direction. “Say a word and I will slice you where you stand.” No, do not do this Arthur, he’s your father! Wanting to rebel knowing the king would never forgive himself should he pierce the older man’s heart, the arm around Merlin’s waist tightens, commanding he stay quiet.</p>
<p>	Lips frowning, stone heart unmoving, eyebrows narrowing in evident irate, he fumes, “you would kill for the sake of his kind? Have you learned nothing! That boy is a traitor to us all, yet you dare challenge me? An enchantment then, my son would never raise a sword to me unless tricked. What have you done to him?” Immobile eyes scowling Merlin, he straightens, hand clutching his own sword.</p>
<p>	Tugging the mage further behind him, Arthur warns, “you’re wrong on several accounts, there is no enchantment here. I’ve raised my sword to you once before, a moment of mercy you owe Merlin. Morgause may have wanted demise, but she played no deceptions that day I meant my mother. You are a hypocrite! It would’ve been so much easier for Merlin to allow your death, he had nothing to gain in lying for your sake, yet he did. The amount of times he’s saved your life, mine, are endless. You owe him more than you will ever know.” He figured it out? When? Bewildered, Merlin scrutinizes the authority’s set features unyielding against his father.</p>
<p>	Snorting, Uther peers in the back despite nobody being there then back to the table. “This is ridiculous.” Meeting Arthur’s stare, he probs, “I owe him nothing! I knew not the price of Nimeuh’s help and have paid for it the rest of my life. I see, however, that you are fond of this boy. Under such circumstances, banishment rather than death is good enough.” Not gonna happen. </p>
<p>	Instantly shooting the idea down, Arthur elaborates, “over my dead body! I have not come for an answer on what to do with Merlin, for I already know and that is the purpose of this meeting. You wanted me to wed Princess Elia, but you’ll be greatly disappointed to know that will never happen. Not only do I not love her, but she was an elf in disguise come to enact revenge for her fallen kin. She left this morning after I gave my condolences and told her my plans for Camelot’s future.” W-what? So it’s true? Merlin was right? Then what about the other lady? Turning attention to the mage, the king smiles, “she wanted me to thank you for sparing her younger sister’s life. The one who came for her sugar celeste.” Little sister? Oh, ugh, mm, this is all news. How am I to respond? It’s very rare Merlin’s at a loss for words or unaware of situations involving his king.</p>
<p>	Leaning head forward, arms crossing, Uther slightly gapes his mouth quickly closing it so as to vanish being caught unaware. “An elf? And you let her escape? I’ve raised a fool!” Knocking a goblet off the table, red wine spills as it clatters onto the floor rolling next to a pillar. “What plan did you speak of that changed her mind?” Yeah, he’s definitely not going to enjoy this next bit.</p>
<p>	Anxious for his king, Merlin wants to refute every insulting word against him. Wants to shout ‘Arthur is every bit a better king than you could’ve ever hoped to be!’, but doesn’t feeling that familiar hand around his waist lightly squeeze. “Merlin’s pregnant and I intend to marry him.” If it weren’t for the sturdy arm clutching him, the mage is positive he’d fall to the ground fainting. In all years of serving, protecting, and guiding his king, he’s certain this is the stupidest thing Arthur’s ever done. Ready to faint himself, Uther wonders if he can handle any other news against Camelot’s traditions. As if he will let this happen!</p>
<p>	Dryly laughing, hands clutching the chair’s backboard, he inquires, “Him? pregnant? Impossible. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re going insane. He’s a male, a good enough reason the court will never agree to such a shameful match. It’ll bring destruction to us all!” Histrionics, always with such dramatics. If Arthur received a gold coin for every time he heard his father say that, he’s confident he’d have enough to feed the lower town for centuries on end.</p>
<p>	Sheathing his sword, thumb comfortingly rubbing over Merlin’s hip where it rests, he disagrees with his father’s claims. “You’re wrong on several accounts. For Merlin, the most powerful sorcerer to walk these lands, anything is quite possible, including childbirth. The only reason the court might turn down this match is because of your disapproval which is why your not going to say a word! I will not force you to accept, but you will hold your tongue, otherwise, everyone will know the truth about my mother’s death and your name will forever be tarnished!” Oh Arthur. He’s doing this for me. It’s taking everything in Arthur to keep going, to persist despite the betrayal, disappointment it’s causing. “All I’ve ever wanted is to be a worthy son, a just king, but I’m not perfect and will never completely please you. For that, I apologize. I will not forsake any more lives for your past mistakes! Especially not him nor my childs’! This is what I’ve come to say, now if you’ll excuse us.” Strolling them away, Uther shouts for his son but is doubly ignored.</p>
<p>	Swiping Merlin off his feet once more when no one is looking, Arthur bursts them into his room gently dumping them in bed. It might’ve been stupid, his actions, but he meant every word and does not regret them. Heart beating fast, he wills to apologize understanding he placed Merlin in an uncomfortable position, but before he can, soft lips mash against his. Closing eyes, grasping brunette hair splurging tongue into the pleasant’s crevice, he positions the mage over his lap. Breaking for air, two tears run Merlin’s face alarming the blonde who happily snivels, “I can’t believe you did such an absurd thing! You didn’t have to do that, your father-” stopped by a finger to his lips, Arthur warmly smiles.</p>
<p>	Sitting together against the headboard, the king finishes, “my father deserved it. Deserves worse truth be told. I should tell the public, reveal the cruel secret he unfairly kept hidden from me, but I don’t believe I can go that far.” I wouldn’t want you to, Merlin internally mumbles. “The threat will keep him quiet at our engagement and my ruling to expel the laws against magic. I believe in my people, and know this will only strengthen our land. I’m sure my court sorcerer will be able to dissuade any evildoers.” This impudent man! Kissing the stars out of him, Merlin whispers multiple ‘I love you’s’ resulting in hardening pricks and teasing grins.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Llachu</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Three months later, the kingdom thrives under new rules freeing magic users. Naturally, the court had many doubters and a couple of opposers when the king made his proclamations but after describing every time, incident, and circumstance Merlin saved his life, used his magic for good, they relented. Their marriage carried out a week from addressing Uther, and was celebrated for four days. Hunith had been near tears kissing both her boy and son-in-law on the cheeks while Gaius walked Merlin down the aisle. King Lot even arrived with Fortis. When discovering the truth of Merlin’s condition, besides Gwaine, Merlin’s odd behavior and charitable gifts made sense to Gwen and the knights. Luckily he didn’t ask for them back because they regularly utilized their presents and were never seen without them.</p>
<p>	At first they’d started out slow, easing into smaller magical practices, and after each month the rules lessened and lessened to where, now, it’s normal to see magical and not conversing in the streets. Performers, healers, locksmiths, merchants, stonemasons, weavers, farmers, cobblers, and other occupants were now assisted by sorcery. Issues Camelot once faced were no longer in result to the talents of young and old. Yes, there were rebellions, bandits, spies, and those who abused their abilities, but when wouldn’t there be? They existed before the rules and would afterward. As promised, the elf, Torrey, pledged her allegiance to Camelot along with her older sister who’d posed as Princess Elia, Tanadrina, followed by many other magical breeds.</p>
<p>	It was a lot to get used to, but eventually peace took over giving this land a breath of fresh air for the first time in a very, very long one. Even Kilgharrah returned, and although many, including Arthur at first, wanted him gone, Merlin promised he wouldn’t cause harm. A huge cave thirty miles away set atop vigorous mountains is where he chose to nest promising he would defend Camelot until his dying day. In turn for restoring liberty to his kin, he swore loyalty which grew honored by the king. Fortis clomped by Merlin’s side every time he visited and played with the town’s children often taking them on rides through the wind. The mage loved the peryton dearly, but Fortis grew an indestructible bond with King Lot and so he did not despair too much knowing Fortis was well taken care of.</p>
<p>	Gwen took the responsibility of watching over Merlin throughout the days Arthur couldn’t, and during the instances she’d be unavailable, Gwaine would cover for her. Belly round, breasts swollen, and mood undetectable, Merlin waddles through his space littered with potions, ancients texts, and herbs. Of all the things he hates most about his condition are the mood swings. He’s not used to being emotionally unbalanced and hates crying over a tear in his favorite shirt or at a mother simply walking her child down a street. Currently, however, rather than anger or sorrowful, he’s horny. Incredibly so, and irritated. Arthur’s been in meetings this entire morning neglecting his moping wife. Of course the one time he’s not being cramped by overly concerned knights and a pampering Gwen, his husband is distracted by land mass. Land mass. I should turn him into a toad!</p>
<p>	Bumping forehead against an open text, a guard enters. “Sorry for the uh… intrusion my queen but the king has requested your presence.” Another dispute, I bet. Following him to the throne room, Merlin’s shocked to find it empty mesmerized at Arthur relaxingly sitting on the throne. Guards closing doors, leaving them alone, excitement bubbles outwardly.</p>
<p>	Straightening in his seat, placing elbow on knee, other arm resting on the chairs’, Arthur drawls, “come here.” Shivers slithering down his spine, the mage advances as commanded standing but a foot away peering a heavily lascivious gaze. Arthur could stare at him all day, belly protruding with his child marking Merlin as his, playing proof to their courtship. It pleases him more than words can say. “What a wicked sight for sore eyes, heavy with our bairn, my seed.” Groin tightening, an involuntary moan escapes his lips added by a sharp intake as he’s straddled across Arthur’s lap. “Much better,” he whispers into the brunette’s left ear.</p>
<p>	Caressing smooth skin across soft, flowing material, Arthur takes time running fingers through hair, over neck, across shoulders, down back, cupping the bump and groping backside all the while nibbling earlobes, kissing lips, suckling throat, and biting milky flesh. Pressing hands against chest, Merlin mewls, head leaning back exposing his neck. Tenderly stripping him of his robes soon displaying mere nature, Arthur blinks twice as if capturing the image for later use. Nipples perking, little tits expounded in preparation for Camelot’s future ruler, Merlin drags Arthur into a heated kiss suckling, separating, absorbing, tongues swirling, clashing, and meshing. Snapping fingers, the king’s clothes disappear equalling their exposed states. </p>
<p>	Grinning, Arthur leans forward latching to right nipple causing a range of high and lows whines from his lover. Toes curling, the mage gasps, eyes widening, when a trickling sensation washes over, a creamy substance decorating his husband’s tongue. Milk? I’m lactating? Furiously blushing, Merlin tries to disengage from the relentless mouth craving, extracting more but the arms around his waist coil tighter leaving no room to so much as wiggle away. “So perfect, producing food for our baby. What a wonderful mother you’ll make.” Running dry, he switches to its left with fingers probing the mage’s rear tantalizingly slow, expanding canal bit by bit.</p>
<p>	More than ready, Merlin impatiently whimpers, tears prodding eyes as he tempts, without actually meaning so, “put it in already, otherwise I’ll tell Gwaine you’ve been neglecting me! He’s always more than willing to- hhHIAcC!” Slamming inside, he mightily grips the brunette’s hips bouncing them up and down by command, teeth gritting at the mere mention of the other knight. Merlin privately smirks. Yelping at teeth piercing the juncture between neck and shoulder, the mage arches his back, ass clenching from every strike, thrust angling the bundled nerves splattering an array of pleasure across his entire being. Purposefully slamming said spot continuously, Arthur doesn’t stop until feeling his peak sliding, contracting his manhood spurting, slopping within its natural habitat. Leaning forehead against shoulder, they stay like that for several moments whispering teasing jests, Merlin provoking he’s had better and Arthur proving it was just a warmup.</p>
<p>	Four more months flash before their eyes, the mage ready to burst any moment, with Gaius forcing him in his chambers knowing contractions should be starting any moment. Since this is a birth of magic, the process differs from the normal type, which is why it's gone faster than usual. Despite tradition for husband to wait outside, Arthur remains his consort’s side, hand almost crushing under certain painful pushes while Merlin threatens ‘this is your fault!’, and ‘I’m never doing this again!’, until finally, soft wails fill the room. Exhausted, the last thing the brunette sees before passing out is Gaius bunching their child and Arthur proudly peering the bundle.</p>
<p>	When he awakens, Arthur helps him sit offering cups of water and pills to ease the soreness. “You did so well love, we have a boy.” A boy? At that moment, Gaius rounds the bed carefully handing the cleanly clothed child to his mother. Tears springing in the corners of his eyes, Merlin tiredly laughs placing a gentle hand to the side of his chubby face. Tiny fingers wrapping around his thumb, the boy suckles at it before crying, brilliant blue eyes of both parents clouding with emotion. He’s hungry.</p>
<p>	Lifting down his overly giant shirt uncovering left nipple, after a few tries, the boy latches onto it hungrily suckling til full. Arthur, watching the two, feels his heart overwhelm and silently vows to forever protect these treasures of his life. Gaius inquiring the baby’s name, simultaneously, they announce, “Llachu”. At that moment, the door opens entering none other than Uther Pendragon. Since months ago, Arthur lost hope that perhaps his father might come to acceptance but the man’s heart never swayed. He barely left his chambers willing for death with every day of watching all he fought for be corrupted. On his feet prepared to strike the man where he stands, Arthur halts noting the calamity and lack of sword washing his father’s features.</p>
<p>	Merlin isn’t the least worried. Why kill when he’d had many chances before, especially after the birth of Camelot’s future heir? “I didn’t come to fight, only to see the child myself.” Restoring forgotten hope in his heart, Arthur mutely asks Merlin for permission who grants it. Lightly passing their babe to Uther, Llachu instantly lightens, tiny, grubby fingers pinching tempered cheeks. “Llachu, was it?” Gaius confirming, nodding his head, the older Pendragon coolly announces, “I am your grandfather, welcome.” Arthur could’ve erupted in tears at that moment, but was drained of them when his son popped out hours prior, Merlin rubbing a few away himself. Whatever hatred the man holds, he’s certain it’ll be wiped away in favor of the glowing child. </p>
<p>	Two years in passing, everybody spent their individual time with the royal heir whenever able to steal him away. Gwen read him bedtime stories, Percival tossed and caught him in the air, Elyan helped him walk, Leon played hide and seek, Lancelot encouraged his better behaviors, and Gwaine taught him how to drink his water as if chugging beer. As Merlin predicted, he possessed his own set of powers often getting into trouble by accidentally setting something on fire or levitating from the ground giggling to his mother’s horror. Uther gradually accustomed to a contented living level venturing out if only to babysit the headstrong infant who swung his miniature, fake sword gifted by Elyan. Merlin thought it to be a terrible idea thinking him too young, but Arthur couldn’t stop laughing claiming he’d been the best swordsman at five years old.</p>
<p>	Arthur plays a wonderful, doting father setting the rules, disciplining when needed, and spending as much time with his son as possible, whether horse back riding, fishing, or taking him on hunts against Merlin’s protest. As a first time mother, everybody admires Merlin’s strength, love, and care who does his best teaching Llachu how to properly contain his magic using patience without overwhelming the young one knowing he’ll learn at his own pace. On a particularly breezy day, sitting together picnicking near a flowing stream, Arthur steals a breathless kiss from his consort while Llachu chases a grasshopper. Camelot thriving, family at peace, and life going well, Merlin happily teases, “you are such a clot pole, but what else would I expect?” Laughing, Arthur smashes their lips together once more. The lands of Albion have been united, and so have their prophesied figures for now and always.</p>
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